The Doctor and the Leprechaun
by Schematization
Summary: COMPLETE! Poor McCoy he never wins even he is lucky enough to find his very own leprechaun. but then who said leprechauns gave away good luck to begin with? A piece of insanity that I have no clue as to it's origin, and that might be a good thing.
1. Chapter One

Don't ask. It's an apparent moment of insanity that I still shake my head at when I read it myself.

DISCLAIMER: And I have no claim to the world of Star Trek or Paramount. I find that dealing with the one I have is tough enough to have to listen to them let alone feed them and pay them.

**CHAPTER ONE**

Doctor Leonard 'Bones' McCoy arrived a minute and sixteen seconds late to the transporter room, and gave both the Captain and Spock a look that defied either of them to make a comment on the matter. When no argument or off hand comment came from either of the men, the trio silently stepped up to the transporter pads and each took their rightful spot.

Striking his usual valorous pose, Kirk shot a quick glance over at Spock, then towards the Doctor, who was still fiddling with his equipment before noticing the Captain's stare.

Taking in a breath that already hinted at being tired, Kirk settled his gold flecked stare back down on Lt. Kyle behind the instrument console. "Energize."

Managing to hide his amused smile, Kyle kept his stare fixed on his instruments as he activated the transporter. Only looking up finally, when the familiar multi-colored glow of particles filled pads as the three officers disappeared from the 'Enterprise'. Resetting his instruments, Kyle shook his head and let the grin finally slip through completely.

On the surface of the tiny green planet thousands of miles below the 'Enterprise', the three men materialized. Instantly Spock had his tricorder out and began taking readings, while the half dozen security crewmembers that had beamed down earlier approached the Captain.

"We've already conducted a preliminary survey of the surrounding area, Captain. Nothing unusual to report so far." Disclosed the senior man among the red clad crew, as he glanced up from his own tricorder to meet Kirk's waiting expression.

"Very good, Ensign Tresger." Kirk commended, squinting as he took a moment to scan their surroundings before deciding if he should believe what the man had said.

The entire area, no matter which direction one chose to look, was green. Several shades of green, from moss-green to forest-green to emerald-green. It was beautifully luscious, but just a bit overwhelming to the senses of anyone who wasn't use to seeing every single day. It was like being trapped in a basket of green Easter grass and not being able to see any sign of the wicker edge.

The had apparently beamed into the middle of what was seasonal livestock grazing area, with the stone fencing that divided up the small pasture into three sections. Beyond that, in which ever direction you chose to look was a tree line that stretched back as far as one could see. Save in the west, where the town of Kilindarbi was located and the wisps of smoke could be seen floating above the tree tops. By the faint whiff of salt in the air, they could also determine they were close to a large body of water as well.

Taking a moment to enjoy the scent of sea air, Kirk glanced over at Spock who had his head bent over his tricorder in his usual all consuming serious nature. The man needed to learn to take a second to take in the splendor of his surroundings. Then again, Kirk thought, if they all took the time to check out what was going on around them whenever they beamed down, there was a better chance of something happening quite harmful to himself. Ah, it was better that his Chief Science Officer truly enjoyed his work instead of sight seeing. In addition, it made his Captain look good in the process, as well as kept him alive.

"Well, Mr. Spock, considering that we really have nothing as in evidence to go on, I suggest we separate and begin to beat the bush, so to speak." Announced Kirk, moving around in a tight circle as he still surveyed his surroundings, pausing when he faced the direction of the town.

Lowering his tricorder, Spock gazed at the Captain wondering if he really expected him to contradict him. They had no idea what they were looking to begin with and less of an idea where to begin to look for it. What choice did they have? He sometimes wondered at the Captain's pattern of thought process.

"At the moment Captain, it would be the most germane action." Replied Spock, as he slipped the tricorder strap over his head for easier movement. "Perhaps it would be best if you, the Doctor, the head of security team, and myself would each take the points, while the remainder of the team spread out among the points."

Raising an eyebrow, Kirk gave the Vulcan a vaguely vexed look. "I sometimes think you read minds as well, Mr. Spock. I was just going to propose that very thought."

McCoy snorted at the remark, keeping his baby blue gaze roaming over the landscape however, as not to meet the even more irate stare of the Captain and questioning one of Spock.

"Yea…Okay Lt. Tresger, here are you orders." Whirling around to face Tresger again, Kirk fixed his authoritative face back on. "You take the southern point, Lieutenant. The rest of your men span out around the points. If anyone finds anything or one unusual, holler out."

The three senior officers stood silently in the middle of the pasture as the watched the six red shirted men scamper across the field hesitating long enough to scramble over the stone fences, before disappearing into the surrounding woods.

"Well, we'll never see them again." Sighed McCoy, also removing his tricorder from around his neck.

"Exactly, what is that supposed to mean?" Kirk demanded, as both he and Spock shifted around in the Doctor's direction again.

Fiddling with the tricorder switches for a second, McCoy fixed an astounded look on the Captain's face. "Are you going to tell me that you haven't noticed every time we set off on one of these mysterious mission's of yours, when we get back to the ship we generally have less than half the landing party we started out with. And I find myself filling out autopsy forms while Spock is correcting your spelling on the condolence messages, for two days afterwards. I can't believe that pointed eared abacus hasn't given you a quote on a percentage of security crew we've lost since you've taken command."

Giving Spock a deliberating glance, Kirk scowled annoyingly at his Chief Medical Officer. "Bones, what exactly has crawled up your hypo today?"

"Nothing. Absolutely nothing. Everything is perfect. I mean, what could possible be wrong?" Snapped McCoy, before turning his attention back to his tricorder. Then quietly groused barely loud enough for the two other men to hear. "What should I have to be worried or upset over? I'm not the one who's getting all the acclaim, or citation's or endorsements. I don't have all the decision's and clamoring groupies harassing me whenever we get a free moment to breathe. So, I guess I have absolutely nothing to be overwrought about, do I?"

Simultaneously, Kirk and Spock raised an eyebrow at the strange outburst then exchanged knowing glances before the Captain cleared his throat and gave the Doctor a prudent look.

"Did you fall and hit your head in sickbay again, Bones? Because I can have Chekov or Sulu beam down in your place if you'd rather go back to your cabin and rest."

"Funny, Jim." McCoy snarled back. "I can handle my assignment just as well as the next man, okay?"

Folding his arm in front of him in a gesture of deep rumination, Kirk eyed the Doctor while actually thinking that Scotty had better get the Haggis crumbs out of his command chair when he got back to the bridge.

"All right then, Spock you head north. Bones you go east and I'll head west." He finally decided while jerking a thumb in the direction of Kilindarbi. "If either of you find anything give a holler."

"Just outta curiosity Jim, what exactly are we supposed to be looking for?" McCoy asked putting a hand out to catch the Captain before he hotfooted for the town. "No one's elaborated on that fact since I heard about this mission. Not even 'Chuckles' here has said a word toward it."

"Doctor, I find your childish reference to myself extremely insultive. If you choose to continue, I will have to again put in a protest about having you assigned to any further away mission's that include myself." Spock calmly said with a surprising snort of indignation.

"Right now Spock, I'd second that motion if I thought it would work, but it doesn't answer my question." Growled the Doctor keeping his piercing blue gaze pinned on the Captain.

"Well, Bones, actually neither one of us is really sure if there is anything seriously wrong." Kirk blurted out after he realized that Spock wasn't going to bail him out. "We just got a message that the inhabitants of the planet were having some minor trouble, but they didn't have any idea themselves of what was causing it, from Headquarters. Admiral Carnlton's daughter married one of the local high monkeys around here and it seemed an idea to keep on the old man's good side."

McCoy's face screwed up instantly after the word trouble was mentioned. "When you say minor trouble Jim, what exactly are meaning? Like minor trouble in a giant underground volcano is on the verge of turn this entire planet into a piece of charcoal with us as little fleck's of ash flying off into space or what?"

Listening to the Doctor's definition, Kirk's own face twisted in disgust. "What do you do Bones, sit in your office all day just thinking up those sick disasters? Like I don't have enough stress in my life trying to compete with this walking PDA all the time. I don't need you making wild assumption's like that to reverse my cholesterol levels."

"Captain, if you and the Doctor continue with your offensive manner I will be forced to return to the ship. Which I point out will leave you here alone with a squad of untried security crewmen." Interrupted the Vulcan, casting a hard meaningful stare from one human to the other.

"All right then, what type of trouble are you talking about then?" Grumbled McCoy, trying to keep the shudder from running down his spine at the thought of his only and best defense being the Captain if they fell into a tight spot.

"Nothing serious Bones. Trust me." Kirk reassured unconvincingly, still giving his First Officer a less than appreciative glare. "Things like the domestic animals running amuck through the town's destroying everything in sight. Someone breaking into several of the more affluent houses over night and tearing them apart after all the liquor in the building has disappeared."

McCoy made a harrumphing noise, as he started turning away. "You don't need me. What you need is a veterinarian who doubles as counselor of AA."

Watching the Doctor head off toward the east, Kirk pursed his lips and cocked his head as he contemplated the Doctor's recent more than normal cantankerous, at times downright bearish attitude.

After a full five seconds of consideration, he shifted enough to look over at Spock, who was also speculatively watching the shrinking frame of McCoy.

"You know Spock, I think that when this mission is over what the Doctor needs to get over his choleric mood is one really over the top, teeth rattling..." Kirk immediately stopped himself when he remembered who he was talking to, but then quickly recovered before the Vulcan had a chance to intercede before they separated. "Game of chess to relax him. Don't you agree Spock?"

TBC

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	2. Chapter Two

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**CHAPTER TWO**

"I don't even know what the hell I'm looking for." Grumbled the Doctor looking up from his tricorder to glance around at glade he found himself in. "For all I know, they all beamed back up to the ship and are right now sitting on their damn butt's on the bridge watching me wandering around these damn woods like the dumb jackass that I am! I'll be kidnapped by some extreme nature loving society and used as a blood sacrifice for some midnight fungus gathering ceremony. "

It wasn't the fact that the Doctor didn't enjoy nature and its entire glorious splendor. He did, but in general he preferred observing it from the comfort of a lounge chair with a cool mint julep in hand and a large swatter within reach. Wandering around some forest that he had some idea about was about as thrilling to him as a full physical was to Jim. Therefore, this had the equivalence of a full physical, a strict diet and the consideration of perusing a weight reduction catalogue for the Captain.

Nevertheless, it was more than that that was bothering the Doctor as of late and he had decided after mulling it over for the last few days in the gloom of his shabbily decorated cabin, that enough was enough. He had sat around for the last four years watching his two 'supposed' best friends sucking up all the glory, accolades, rewards and mostly the women with so much as offering him a flyspeck of any of it. Well, it was about time that someone else got the chance to lap up some of that interstellar gravy. If he ever got the hell out of these woods in one piece and alive would also be nice.

Heaving a long drawn out sigh, he gazed down at his tricorder again and found the readings to be as dull as they were the last time he looked. Then again, that meant absolutely nothing on a planet that one had never been to before. For all he knew at that second he could be surrounded by a couple dozen creatures ready to pounce and suck ever molecule of DNA out of his body through his bellybutton.

Glancing around nervously at that grisly notion, McCoy had to grudgingly concur with the Captain's opinion of his morbid thinking pattern of late. Seeing nothing he still felt a cold shiver run the length of his spine and decided to move along before his imagination proved not to be all that farfetched.

Slowly moving on, he chose what appeared to be the safest of directions to take trying to keep on eye his readings and one eye on the path ahead. A trick that McCoy had yet to perfect, he painfully found out after following the half-overgrown trail into a patch of berry brambles, that could've been listed as deadly weapons.

Engaged in a battle with a number of thorny branches that had lashed out to latch on to his blue jersey and stubbornly refused to let go. After several attempts to set himself free, he resorted to whacking at the offending briars with his tricorder, while trying to pull away from the thorns in the same motion. In his growing irascibility he took an unyielding step back, snarling an old confederate battle cry as he caught a boot heel on another thick vine and staggered backwards into the barbed arms of the patch before being thrown down a concealed slope.

A flock of birds scattered to the air above the tree tops, not from the noise of the slide and following thud but from the echoing sound of several words of blue that McCoy kept tucked away for such moments. Which lately seem to be closer and closer together.

For several moments, McCoy simply lay there flat on his back staring up through the tree branches at the blue sky well aware of the dampness that was seeping through the back of his shirt and pants. Sweeping through his mind was same recurring thought of why had he been asinine enough let that stupid divorce rankle him enough to enlist with Star Fleet to begin with. He coulda been just as happy in a giggling academy playing doctor with stuffed animals.

With a great deal of care and caution he slowly sat up and checked all extremities for anything that could've been considered life-threatening. Finding only scratches, abrasions and bruises, as well as a skull splitting headache from an occasional bounce on the way down the slope, he gazed around at his new surroundings.

He had landed less than foot from a three and foot wide stream, that cut northeast through the forest, which explained his uncomfortable wetness that was increasing the longer, he sat there. On the other side of the stream the forest continued to stretch out in every direction, however it was increasingly denser and darker. 'Fabulous', McCoy groused to himself, as he gingerly began to push himself back to his feet.

Double-checking his equipment for any damage, he debated whether to attempt to ford the stream or continue on this side following the rippling water. Hell, he was already half-assed wet might as well see if he can finish the job.

Slipping the tricorder strap over his shoulder he started down stream trying to find a spot that would guarantee atleast a fifty percent chance of not drowning. Traipsing with only minor difficulty among the stones scattered along the stream bank, his ears perked up at a noise emanating from the other bank.

It wasn't anything that could've been clearly defined, unless you happen to possess a set of perfectly attuned pointy ears that could've picked up a mouse breaking wind on the other side of the planet. Yet, McCoy was certain that he had heard something and that something sounded as if it was either in trouble or was in the middle of committing a bloody murder.

Without only a second of hesitation, he stepped through the frigid water, grimacing as it went over his boot tops and began soaking his socks. If there was one thing he hated, other than losing an argument of any kind to a lymphatic Vulcan, was walking around in wet socks all day long.

Climbing up the opposite bank, McCoy scanned the woods ahead for any life forms as he pushed his way through the overgrowth of ferns and brush. Several yards in he paused to get his bearings again absently brushing back a branch of leaves that dusted the top of his head, when he pinpointed the being. Looking up from the tricorder screen, he snorted quietly while drumming his fingers along the back of the instrument in thought.

He realized a long time ago that he wasn't the kind to go head-down charging into any situation that contained impetuous individual's that had the taste of violence. Not that he didn't step in when he believed action's that were being taken were wrong or unnecessary. After all, he did have a sense of gentlemanly honor and pride no matter if he was on some planet that never heard of southern gentility.

However, he was also wise enough to know that he wouldn't make the same impression as that of the Captain in one of his charging bull imitation, followed by the usual unabashedly bombastic man among men act. Or that of utterly confusing the opposition with a string of logical yammering before rendering them incoherent crimping their neck. The medicine man bit was always the strongest and best bet to go with for him no matter what without having to fake anything. God, what he would give anything for atleast a hanky with a red-cross emblem on it.

Creeping in the direction the tricorder had indicated, McCoy kept his ears focused on the obscure bellowing that he had decided was a single person the more he listened. A single person with quite a knowledge of fulmination by the growing amount of ferocity in the words.

Winding his way among several clumps of ferns and centuries old tree's infested with boulder sized fungi, the Doctor spotted a several beams of sunlight cutting through the branches several yards ahead. Easing his way around a close cousin to a giant oak, he stopped next to the thick trunk to stare into the small sun drenched glade with mouth slightly agape.

Actually it was the large burlap sack hanging from the branches of another oak on the other side of the glade, that he was gaping at. The large burlap bag and whatever it was that was thrashing around within it, hollering like bureaucrat who had just been hoodwinked by a Star Fleet officer.

Peering around the glade vigilantly, McCoy made his across the tiny dell until he was under the sack that was swinging wildly from a three-quarter inch chain. By the damp smell of the bag and the depth the chain had cut into the overhead branch, it had been hanging there since sometime last night. Which would explain the voluminous cursing that was coming from within. That and the actual being held in the bag circumstance as well, he concluded.

Casting another curious glanced about him, he considered the idea of contacting Jim or not over his find while his fingers idly thrummed the tricorder again. He decided against it, not wanting the Captain's ire if the whole thing had a priority equivalence to that of a shortage of tray liner's in the cafeteria.

In the midst of the Doctor's heavy rumination, the sack suddenly stopped all motion as well as producing any further howling. After a heartbeat, the sound of whatever it was within the sack sniffing the air could be heard.

"What be there?" It growled suspiciously.

Eyes slowly moving up from the tricorder screen to the sack just over his head, McCoy again gawked at the sack.

"What be ye? One of those scalawags comes to torture me poor broken bones again, in wantin' of me treasure? Speak up ye, so I knowin' who it 'tis that I be cursin' with me last breath!"

"Er…Doctor McCoy from the starship 'Enterprise." Stammered McCoy, regaining some of his composure to give his readings a quick glance.

"Ye not be one those rapscallions who snatched me from me warm bed last night, demandin' that I takes ye to me treasure." The being mused to itself moving around in the sack again for a more comfortable spot.

"Considering I just arrived on the pla…um, in the area. No, I'm not." Replied the still startled Doctor, an eyebrow rising as he eyed the readings.

"Then quit your standing there flappin' your lips boy-o, and gets me outta this putrid smellin' pouch before the fragrance eats away me clothes!" It demanded with enough vehemence that it started the sack dancing around again.

With an irritated scowl, the Doctor shut of the tricorder and slipped the strap back over his shoulder. He had little choice in assisting the trapped soul, save one and inasmuch of what it would entail he though it wise not to go in-depth with what it would amount to.

Removing the phaser from his belt, the Doctor took a step back as he set the beam to a narrow setting then took careful aim at the chain just a few inches above the sack and fired.

Impressed that it only took three shots to finally hit the chain, McCoy was unable to resist a miniscule smug smile as he replaced the phaser on his belt, trying to ignore the profane squalling at his feet. He had heard similar reaction's from Jim whenever he was ordered to an immediate physical with highly strenuous exercise and only green's allowed for consuming. Not out of a burlap sack in truth, but it wasn't for lack of thinking of it on his part.

As he went down on one knee in front of the sack, McCoy rolled his eyes at the sound of the cartilage cracking loudly in the motion, then started removing the chain from the top of the sack. All the time the shrieking and flaying about had picked up right where it had ended as soon as the bag had struck the ground with a dull thud. There was little doubt left in the Doctor's mind, that if he hadn't been plagued with a life long curse before he definitely was going to live out the remainder of his life, and the next ten generation's of McCoy's, with a dozy of one.

"If you don't quit you're caterwauling I'm gonna throw you into that stream I fell into back there." Snarled the Doctor, keeping a firm grasp on the opening of the sack waiting for the struggling to stop before letting it loose.

"Tis no angel ye be then! Sent here to rescue this poor hard working soul and then set me drowning after ye gets a hold of all me hard earned treasures! Faith be saving me!"

"Shut up!" Barked McCoy, giving the sack a vigorous shake settling down the squirming victim again. "I don't want your treasure or anything else o f yours!"

There was a pause that had the hint of contriving to it. "What then is it that ye be wantin'?"

"Just some information, that's all." Explained McCoy, cautiously releasing the sack letting the opening fall around the figure that had been its prisoner. "Like where am I at? Is there any place close at hand that qualifies as a town? And like what…exactly…you are?"

Standing up the small human figure began to dust himself off then looked over at the Doctor with a large mischievous grin. "Don't be telling me that ye don't be believin' those trustin' blue eyes or yourn'? Why boy-o, I be one of the wee folks. A leprechaun, that is "

TBC

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	3. Chapter Three

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**CHAPTER THREE**

'A leprechaun. Right.' Thought the Doctor, as his slowly turn so he was eyeing the two-foot man from the corner of his eye while an eyebrow rose to meet his hairline. After bouncing around the galaxy for several years he had heard more crazy, balmy and flat out strange stories than he ever care to try and remember in his lifetime. Although in general, they didn't involve himself. Not sober anyway.

"Okay, you're a leprechaun." He said after several seconds, deciding it best not to provoke the little man. "Considering I'm on your planet and in your forest, I'll play along with you."

"Ach, now boy-o ye be thinkin' that what is before ye be a trick of that muddled mind of yoursin'?" As he spoke, the small man brushed at the green sleeves of his long tailed jacket before retrieving a three cornered hat from among the pile burlap. "Leprechaun I be though, me lad and gladly prove it to ye once I gather meself together again."

Weight shifting enough that he abruptly sat down among the dew covered grass; McCoy's mouth hung open in silent testimony of his disbelief of what was being claimed by the individual. After a few seconds, he regained himself enough to pull his medical case around retrieved a scanner and proceeded to give the man a quick examination.

"Here now! What sort of black magic be that gadget fer?" Demanded the leprechaun pulling back in immediate distrust of humming device.

"I use it to check for injuries that I can't see on my own." Explained McCoy running the scanner along one side and down the other of the fidgeting little man. "I don't suppose you have a name that I can call you by, as long as you insist that you're for real."

"Aye, that I do." Acknowledged the leprechaun, as he brusquely screwed the three cornered hat on his head all the while keeping a dubious eye on the scanner in the Doctor's hand. "A name long kepts in secret for centuries, fearin' that some of you human folk would be usin' it to fetch me and me treasure."

"Ah-huh." Grunted McCoy, returning the scanner to it's case then sat back, arms folded loosely in front of him and stared uncertainly at the red-haired diminutive man. "In others words, it's been so long since you've used it you can't remember what it is."

A mournful expression set on the leprechaun's face that suspiciously looked vaguely feigned. "Tis sadly the truth, me boy-o. Spendin' the last four hundred years in dread of the human folk of stealin' me hard won treasure and lackin' the companionship of me kin since comin' to this land that the good Saint Patrick himself would of gladly left to it's own wicked ways, the sound of me own name has not been heard. It's been a sad life out here on me own, I be tellin' ye."

"I'm sure it has." McCoy murmured, bringing out his tricorder again. "How about if I just call you Fred."

"Sur'n ye can come up with a name more fittin' a being of the those Isle of the Green and …"

"Listen, 'Fred'!" Growled the Doctor, shooting a frustrated glare over the top of the tricorder at newly named leprechaun. "I'm not even sure if you really exist! For all I know I could be sitting here talking to an overgrown toadstool! I coulda just as well left you dangling from that tree like a sack of shi…cabbage, until they came back to get you. What would've preferred? Kathleen?"

"Here now, no reason to be so boisterous." 'Fred' quickly mollified, then narrowed his piercing eyes. "What is it they be callin' you then? McCoy?"

"Among other things." McCoy said, while re-reading the sensor's report.

There was nothing extraordinary in any of what he read, which bothered him more than perhaps if there had been something unusual. Everything said that 'Fred', was nothing more than your average two foot humanoid, dressed in all deep green and a leather apron, gold buckled black shoes with a matching green three cornered hat. Red scraggly hair streaked with white stuck out from under the hat in every direction, matching the unkempt tangled mess of the bright red beard he sported. H was the walking, talking idea of what the Doctor had read about as a kid, as being a leprechaun. Right down to the nearly indistinguishable accent. And yet, if that's what he truly was, someone was going to have reprogram the tricorder sensor's to start registering mythical phenomena. Or possibly, during that tumble earlier, he had hit his head harder than he originally thought.

"Well, it doesn't seem you have any injuries." He finally sighed, still unsure of what to make of this, if anything. "Other than a few bumps and bruises. What I don't understand is if you are a 'leprechaun', why didn't you use those cobbler tools of yours to cut your way out of that sack? Woulda been a lot easier than sitting around waiting for someone to come through here picking berries or mushrooms to let you out."

"Oh me boy-o, I did give that notion some serious mind workin', but considerin' those pilferin' rogues took all me tools when I was caught up in their snare, it didn't seem bloody likely to happen." 'Fred' threw back heatedly, a bushy red eyebrow arching in disgust at the Doctor's lack of the obvious.

"Well, excuse me 'Fred'." Snorted McCoy, as he pushed himself of the wet ground back to his feet. "Considering the fact that I just saved your life, not to mention your 'hard earned treasure', you could try to be a little bit more civil and appreciative."

Jumping back as McCoy straightened out to his full height, 'Fred' glowered for a brief moment at the indignant human. It was apparent that he sincerely hoped that McCoy had either forgotten or overlooked that small detail of rescuing his Celtic hide.

"Aye, what ye say is true." He grudgingly said, the small round face wrinkling up in his slight annoyance and pondering.

"Nice to know someone agrees with me on something's." Readjusting the tricorder strap as he slipped it back over his shoulder, McCoy glanced around the glade. "These fella's that hung you out to dry, they wouldn't be from anywhere close by would they?"

"Aye. The wee hamlet of Kilindarbi. A cradle of wickedness and sin it 'tis." He claimed with such fervor that McCoy wouldn't have been surprised if he had believed the same about the entire planet of Vulcan. "Believe me my boy, ye be steppin' into a den of vipers with that lot."

An eyebrow twitched at that description, as he thought about Jim so enthusiastically bounding off towards Kilindarbi. Would serve him right if he was bitten right on the…

"Now if it be the lasses you're seekin' out me boy-o, you need to be goin' to Darlntin." He gave the Doctor an exaggerated wink causing his caterpillar eyebrow wriggle back down his forehead.

"As tempting as that is, I'm 'fraid I'm going to have to pass on that little tidbit." McCoy replied with a tired grimace, when his communicator beeped obnoxiously.

"Ack, more of that witchery! Will be the death of us all!" Exclaimed 'Fred' at the sight of the communicator in the Doctor's hand.

Ignoring the little over actor, McCoy spoke into the communicator having a feeling it would be the large over actor on the other end.

"McCoy here."

There was a pause briefly filled with female laughter, before the voice of the Captain came through. "Ahem…Bones, do you have anything to report?"

Rolling his eyes at the inane question, McCoy begged for silent assistance before answering. "Yes Jim. I found a Klingon war base out here among the skunkweed, but I'm keeping the coordinates to myself. So you and Spock can come out here to wander through the tooley weeds, developing allergies, and inflamed rashes to find it. What do you think, when I haven't tried contacting you since we separated?"

The answering was another burst of woman's laughter consuming the air of the glade.

"Hey, there's no need to be sarcastic, Bones." Kirk said after murmuring a few words to his bubbling companion. "I was just checking to see if everyone is still with us. You haven't seen Lt. Tresger or any of his men, have you?"

"No Jim, I haven't." Closing his eyes, McCoy wondered how long it would be until they found the remnants of the familiar red shirts whipping in the wind. "I don't suppose you've managed to uncover anything?"

For several seconds the only answer he received was the warm whispers between the Captain and the teetering female with him.

"Jim! Anytime you want to come up for air!" He shouted into the communicator after his stomach began to turn.

"Sorry, Bones." Kirk returned after a few seconds of what sounded like zippers and Velcro being fiddled with. "I was having a discourse with some of the inhabitants."

"If that's what you want to call it." Grumbled McCoy suddenly noticing that 'Fred' had taken a deep interest in the tricorder and other gear he was lugging around. "Don't think about touching that!"

"Ah...listen McCoy, I realize you're concern is for my physical well being, but there are times that when green salads and jogging five miles a day just don't cut it." Came the heated response from Kirk in the mix of what was already a bewildering day.

Putting a reaffirming hand on the tricorder, McCoy gave the leprechaun a threatening look. "Jim, I hate to cutting this scintillating conversation short, but I'm dealing with my own locals right now, so why don't you bother Spock? By now, he knows the answer to why were here, where Tresger and his band of merry men are, and that the bimbo you're with is married. McCoy out."

Flipping the communicator closed, he shifted his feet enough to move out of range of the curious hands of 'Fred'. That's just what he would be needing now after what happened on Sigma Iotia II. He could just see himself explaining to Command that a leprechaun had out smarted him and ran off with his tricorder as well as his medical equipment and phaser. That would guarantee that trip to the cashew hacienda and a long rest.

"This Jim you be speakin' with. He be kin of yours?" 'Fred' hesitantly inquired the bright blue eyes dazzled yet by the instrument hanging from the Doctor's shoulder. "Or be he cur?"

"A little of both, I guess." Slipping the communicator back on to his belt, McCoy scanned the forest that in front of him. "How far is it to this Darlntin?"

"Ooo,..A full day and night of walking boy-o, if you start out now." Calculated the leprechaun after a full thirty seconds of counting and recounting his fingers.

"Forget that." Rejected McCoy, with a distasteful look as he glanced at his wrist chrono. "I guess it makes about as much sense to head back toward Kilindarbi for now. Might as well ruin Jim's day while I'm at it."

Tearing his lively eyes from the tempting toys around the Doctor's waist, 'Fred' became riveted to what was coming out McCoy's mouth.

"Ye can't be thinkin' of leavin' me now boy-o! Not yet!"

An eyebrow of distrust rose over a blue quizzical eye. "And why the hell not?"

"Ye saved me from revealin' my treasure and workin me poor achin fingers for those scamps that swallowed me up in that sack!" Was 'Fred's' emphatic answer while leaping in front of McCoy to block his path, and then puffed himself up for what was to be his apparent grand announcement. "And because of this, I find meself in the position that my own kind latches on to with any vim and vigor."

"Oh really." Thought the Doctor feeling his headache starting to spread down his spine to his toenails. "And what is that?"

"Ye be receivin' a reward, me boy-o. A reward befittin' the rescue the last of me family!"

**TBC**


	4. Chapter Four

**CHAPTER FOUR**

'Reward?' That it was it for the Doctor, as he whirled back around in the direction that he had staggered from. He had had enough of this little figment of his rattled imagination and knew it was time to find someone that he knew for a fact was real. Even if that individual also sported a pair of pointed ears.

"Listen, that's not necessary. I was just doing what any lost fool would've done if he'd stumbled across a imaginary burlap sack hanging from a tree." Sighed McCoy, glancing down at 'Fred' whose blue gaze was going from the Doctor's face to the gadgets on his belt and back again. "Consider it a free house call."

"That'll never do, boy-o! I needin' to be givin' ye a proper token of me thanks!" 'Fred's' tone was becoming more distressed as he followed McCoy out of the glade.

"That's all right. Believe me, it's not necessary!" Reaffirmed the Doctor, pausing at the forest edge to give the leprechaun another assuring look. "The people I work off really frown on us receiving gifts of any kind for whatever reasons. In fact we could be penalized if we're caught accepting rewards that aren't sanctioned by our organization."

''What they not be knowin', won't be hurtin' them." Replied 'Fred' with a laugh, that had a ribald edge to it that the Captain would've appreciated. "I needin' to be doin' this fer both of us, me boy-o."

That sounded a bit too foreboding in McCoy's mind. "You need to do this? I hate to ask why."

"Aye, that be wise. If'n I were ferced into goin' into detailin' with all the laws, bylaws and hidden stipulation's we'd be here a fortnight." Lower lip stuck out in deep brainwork, 'Fred' slowly shook his head in bemusement. "There be nothin' more devastatin' than going a fortnight without a drop of whiskey."

It did have a deplorable note to it, concurred McCoy with his own dejected expression then quickly sobered up again.

"Well, there has to be a loop hole in all of that, that you can come up with to get the both of us out of it?"

"'Fraid not, me boy-o. By the bylaws ye are derservin' of a reward 'n that bein' what ye get. Now what be yer hearts desire?"

The earnest in the leprechaun's voice only heightened the Doctor's uneasiness of the sticky circumstances he had unintentionally involved himself into. Moreover, he doubted his anxiety was going to be elevating anytime soon.

"Okay." Rubbing his fingertips up and down the center of his forehead while squeezing his eyes shut again, McCoy reevaluated everything. "In other words, you're not going to leave me alone until I do decide what I would want for a reward."

"Aye, I'm 'fraid that be the lot." Assented 'Fred'.

The Doctor rubbed the sore spot more diligently. This was going to be a matter that had sensitive stamped all the way around it. Obviously he wasn't going away until something was decided on as a fitting reward, which was another delicate point.

If he pushed the fact that he didn't want anything, and this red haired walking toadstool was what he claimed to be who says he couldn't turn him into an acorn and be buried by a chipmunk God knows where. And he didn't dare just blurt out something to the sawed off shillelagh, since it may be taken too literally or just blown totally out of proportion. One thing for sure, he wasn't going to spend the day arguing with the runt until he was hoarse, and 'Fred' was the verge of changing him into a titmouse.

"Tis a terrible choice to have to be makin', I know laddie." Sighed the leprechaun regretfully, his grubby fingers absently toying with a few strands of his bread.

"A simple thanks isn't going to work?" Tried McCoy one more time, both eyebrows rising in hope.

"'Fraid not, me boy-o."

With a stymied snort, McCoy threw a glare around the glade before pinning the perturb stare on 'Fred'. "All right, for the time I'll play along with you, even if I still think you're more than a little addlepated, or I'm completely nuts. However, it's McCoy from here on. I feel like I should be wearing knee breeches with that boy-o crapola."

"Aye, that I can abide to, me bo….er,..Mc..Coy." 'Fred' immediately amended himself, then beamed at the Doctor as he readjusted his hat.

Starting to turn away, McCoy shot a final disturbed look at 'Fred' before venturing back into woods. When this was done, he concluded, he was going to be the one high tailing it for town and Jim could be the one wandering around the woods talking to two foot tall, heavily accented hallucinations.

* * *

The sun was directly overhead when Kirk returned to the beaming area, still rubbing off the unmistakable mark of red lip rogue from his chin, his gold glittering gaze searching for any of his crewmates. Seeing no signs of the familiar blur of blue anywhere, he promptly took the time to again spit on his fingers and diligently scrub any areas that could yet be tainted with the offending marks.

Engrossed in his act of removing any incriminating evidence, Kirk was unaware of the approaching Vulcan until he had halted behind the Captain and spoke.

"Difficulties with the inhabitants again, Captain?"

"Er…difficulties?" Jumping a good three inches at the sound of his First Officer's voice, Kirk scowled daggers at the tall Vulcan, before composing himself again. "Yes. Yes, Mr. Spock. Only a minor skirmish, nothing serious. Nothing I wasn't capable of handling on my own."

"Indeed, sir." Was the reply that had it's usual stolid tone, yet a touch of blasé was just under the surface. "They were unable to assist in the search of an explanation toward the strange occurrences that have been plaguing the planet?"

An eyebrow twitched as Kirk's eyes darted around in a search for a believable response. "Actually Mr. Spock, I never had a chance to get around to asking any question's. Too many other things were happening at once and they really didn't seem too interested in anything I had to say."

"Disappointing." Murmured Spock, clasping his hands behind his back while the unimpressed shadow deepened in the dark brown stare.

Clearing his throat, Kirk wiped at the invisible wrinkles along his tunic. "Not entirely, Mr. Spock. Not entirely."

Turning back toward the Captain, Spock gave him an inquisitive look up and down before speaking. "Have you spoken to either the Doctor or Lt. Tresger?"

"Yes and no. I did speak with McCoy, but he didn't have anything to report. By his attitude though, he must've fallen into another patch of poisonous plants." Replied Kirk, running his fingers through his partially tangled hair as he surveyed the tree line again. "I haven't heard a peep from Tresger or any of his men since they disappeared into the woods."

"It would seem the Doctor was correct in his assumption of viewing the men again." Spock said, following the Captain's gaze that swept around the pastureland.

"Please Spock, bad enough I have to listen to Bones harp about that everytime we beam down somewhere. I don't need to have you harassing me about it." Grumbled Kirk then jabbed a finger in the Vulcan's face. "And don't go to Command about it again. It took me over two days to explain way our percentage rate for loss of security crewmembers the last time. Then they gave me more paper work to fill out than I ever had my entire time in Star Fleet, including the year I had to repeat."

Both jet-black eyebrows sprang up along Spock smooth brow, at both the accusation and the admission made by the Captain. Yet, he refrained from making any comment towards either, when he spotted McCoy emerging from the woods.

Kirk also noticed the Doctor at the same moment, and began to reach for his communicator, only to hesitate the longer he watched his McCoy deep in a stern conversation with absolutely no one.

The two men exchanged curious looks before gazing back across the pasture at the Doctor, who had started walking toward them again. Neither spoke a word as they remained still, while McCoy sat on the stone fence then swung his legs over, standing back up in one motion. Brushing off the back of his trousers, he paused turning back toward the fence and started back into discussion that was on the edge of becoming heated with the open air.

"Is it me Spock, or is McCoy arguing with absolutely no one?" Kirk slowly inquired out of the corner of his mouth, maintaining a visual on the Doctor in case he made any sudden moves toward them.

"It would appear that we may have underestimated the Doctor's mental condition during these last few weeks." Mused the Vulcan, one eyebrow descended languidly as the other remained it's position just a few centimeters below his hairline.

"That's just what I need." Kirk groaned, hanging his head for a handful of seconds. "On top of everything else, my Chief Medical Officer has become space crazy."

Hearing the two other officers speaking, McCoy glanced over his shoulder at Kirk and Spock, then a befuddled frown pulled at his face. He knew by their expressions of mixed dauntlessness and pity that something was definitely wrong. Sucking up a vexed lungful of air, he gazed back over the stone barrier at the grinning leprechaun, who was dusting his hat off with the cuff of his green coat.

"They can't see you, can they." He hissed deciding it best not to bring any more attention to himself that could get him put away in a Star Fleet mental ranch.

"Now, ye don't wants everyone ye know seein' that there be a leprechaun tryin' to do ye a good turn next to yer side, do ye?" If possible the grin became wider as 'Fred' glanced up at the fuming Doctor.

Running a hand down his face in a deliberately slow manner, McCoy rolled his gaze Heavenward murmured something to himself then eyed 'Fred' again.

"Listen, right now I'm returning to my ship. And I know we haven't settle any of this reward business." He swiftly added, holding up a hand before the leprechaun had a chance to protest. "They need me, if they believe it or not. So I'll make a deal with you. Give me some time to think about it and I'll meet you back here to settle up. Sound fair?"

By the tightly screwed up face, 'Fred' was giving the offer some studious consideration before speaking, although McCoy didn't give him a chance.

"Great. I'll be seeing you then, 'Fred'." With a wave the Doctor whirled on his heels and basically ran the rest of the way to join up with the others, his tricorder flopping haphazardly behind him.

Removing the communicator from his belt, Kirk made a point of keeping some space between him and McCoy. "You feeling all right, Bones?"

"Fine. Just fine. Where's Tresger and his crew?" McCoy hurriedly replied, his eyes darting from the device in Kirk's hand to the Captain's face.

"They already beamed up." Answered Kirk just as fast, throwing Spock a threatening glare. "Who were talking to back there?"

"Myself. I was just reminding myself of the flora and fauna lesson's Sulu had been pounding into me lately, that's all." Said the Doctor, with a gesture for Kirk to notify the ship of transportation. "Why?"

"No reason. Bones." Kirk said with a roll of one shoulder, before conveying to Kyle that there were three to beam up, then spoke again to McCoy before the sparkling lights began slicing up their molecules. "Spock and I were discussing of pooling our money this year for your birthday, and getting you a series of shock treatments."

On the otherside of the stone barrier, 'Fred' watched in bewitchment as the three men disappeared in a mass of sparkling swirls. Once they had completely vanished, the grin reappeared on the round, bearded face as he snapped the three cornered chapeau back on his head.

"Aye me boy-o." He laughed to himself as he gradually faded away in a few shimmering green sparkles from the field. "Ye can have all the times there be to wallow in thought, but that don't be meanin' that I can'ts tag to do some presuadin' and respitin' on me own."

**TBC**


	5. Chapter Five

**

* * *

**

**CHAPTER FIVE**

**One Week Later**

The tension had become incredibly thick, which only amplified the stillness that swelled around the room. It had been that way for the last hour, however it seemed be on the sudden ugly verge of ending within the next few seconds.

The rec. rooms doors abruptly hissed open, causing the entire crowd to glower in it's direction and Chekov, who blanched under the mass glare as he tippy-toed to a spot for a better advantage. As soon as the door were closed again, the attention had once more shifted back to the center table and the on going battle taking place there.

Sitting straight up in his seat, Spock gazed ruminatively at the three-dimensional chess set as he had been for the last six minutes and twenty-three seconds. He shifted ten degrees forward in his seat, causing a flurry of excitement among the throng surrounding the table, and a single eyebrow to lift only a few centimeters as he gazed curious across the table at this opponent then back to chess pieces.

He admitted to himself, that he had never seen such a volume of interest in a game of chess since the day he had first set foot on the 'Enterprise'. Truth be told, he wasn't surprised. Even if that was possible to begin with. He understood their rapt, enthralled attention of the game that had been going on for over an hour and a half. It had nothing to do with intriguing strategy or mind play that took place between two individuals. It all centered around the man with the jaded expression on his face, sitting in the chair opposite of him.

Doctor Leonard McCoy.

That did, indeed surprise him. Although he wouldn't admit to that fact, unless under complete duress.

"Come on, Spock. I've had plasma samples move faster than you." McCoy grumbled, slouching further down into his chair as if preparing for some excruciating torture. "I've had more fun relining my medicine cabinets."

Ignoring the Doctor's taunts, Spock continued to silently study the game boards, level by level until reaching the top. Once his gaze swept that board, it began to descend back down to the bottom level to rework his strategy, all the time aware of the enliven crowd and yet not aware. He was capable of easily shutting off anything and everything around him that may cause some distraction to his play, including a throng of five or six dozen people. However, even with his astounding mental dexterity, there were always those small abstractions that he couldn't entirely overlook.

At this moment, such an abstraction was sitting at the end of the table watching the entire game with the entire intensity of those around him, only ten fold. The gold speckled stare taking in every single shift, slide and slouch made by the two men playing, while several beads of perspiration appeared on his forehead. Gripping the sides of the table with such fervor, that matched the dark mask on his face, the Captain gave the impression this game was being played for his very soul.

At fifteen intervals, Kirk would suck in a ragged breath that ended with a whistle that offended all ears, especially those of the First Officer who was barely keeping his annoyance under control.

"Spock, do something before the entire ship shuts down and drifts off in the Neutral zone." Snapped McCoy, squirming in his chair like an eight-year old boy wanting to be anywhere but where he was.

Taking in a slow lungful of air, the Vulcan shifted even closer to the table while narrowing his stare. Carefully inspecting the black and white pieces for another fifty-two seconds then raised a hand to the top level and gracefully laid his white queen down.

"I concede defeat, Doctor." Murmured Spock, before the crowd broke in a resounding wave of cheers, smothering the sound of Kirk's head hitting the table.

"'Bout time." McCoy snorted, pushing away from the table and carefully standing up to give his stiffened joints time to wake up. "There are times I don't know what you two find so enthralling about this game. I've done a few autopsies that were more exciting than this."

A number of crewmembers came up to the Doctor, slapping him on the back or pumping his hand in congratulations of his victory. In-between an attractive blonde, brunette, or redhead would slink up to the buoyantly surprised physician to plant a victorious kiss along his cheek.

The activity went on for several minutes, as Kirk and Spock remained sitting at the table observing the enthusiastic glee that was being exhibited by the crew. Neither of two senior officers looked pleased with the display, but kept their thoughts to themselves until the crowd had finally dispersed.

"Bones, you wouldn't mind explaining something to Spock and myself." Kirk finally said, trying to ignore the painful lump that was swelling along his brow.

Still grinning as a young honey blonde ensign from communications let her kiss linger a second longer before slipping of to rejoin her comrades, McCoy leisurely side stepped back over to the table.

"Be happy to. Need some pointers on how to beat this pointy-eared IBM system? Or just pointers on winning period?" Smirked Bones, as he perched on the edge of the table and retrieved one of the black knight pieces from the board.

Lips nearly disappearing in a thin line of rancor at being reminded that he had also been at the same end of loss as Spock the day before, for ten straight games, Kirk stared murderously at the Doctor.

"Not exactly, Bones." The words dripped from the Captain's mouth with anything but sugar as he forced a smile on to his face. "More in line of how are you doing it?"

For a second, McCoy only blinked at Kirk then over at Spock who merely gazed at the Doctor impassively waiting for the forthcoming explanation.

"What do you mean?" He asked, looking back over at Kirk.

"Win, Bones." Replied Kirk, sitting back in his chair one hand still resting on the table edge and a glint the interrogator in the hazel eyes. "How do you win at a game that you claim you barely know the rules to and find as interesting as collecting lint from body cavities. It's…it's…"

"Inconceivable." Finished Spock, an eyebrow twitching again.

The irascibility had returned full bore to McCoy's face, as he glanced from one man to the other and back again, realizing what they were both implying.

"Are you saying that I cheated?" He indignantly inquired, as his fingers began to furiously play with the chess piece they held.

"Considering I don't know how you could to begin with, as well as the fact you in the middle of a crowded room, I don't think it's likely. Especially with Spock sitting here observing every move you've made." Kirk replied waving a hand toward Spock, who tilted his head, a degree or two in his introspection of McCoy.

"So, that's why you went out of your way to come clear down to sick bay to ask me if I wouldn't mind playing a game of chess with you." The Doctor's own eyes narrowed in suspicion, as he regarded the First Officer. "Jim was still ticked off about yesterday and wanted revenge so he sent his hired assassin to take me down."

"Affirmative, Doctor." Spock quietly confirmed with a single nod.

"Spock?" Barked the Captain, giving his friend a threatening glare as he nearly leapt out of his chair.

Giving Kirk a deliberately pointed look. "It is the truth, Captain."

"Damn you and you're freakin' honest." Flopping back into his chair, Kirk glared at the Vulcan heatedly.

"Oh sure, encourage your First Officer to lie, but you automatically assume that I'm cheating." McCoy said, placing the chess piece back on the board as he rose from the table. "Being a man in the position that you are Jim, you need to either get your moral's rechecked or check into sickbay for a few days to examine your brain waves."

Kirk was on the verge of a sizzling retort when the rec. room intercom came to life and Uhura's melodious voice filled the room.

"Bridge to Dr. McCoy. Bridge to Doctor McCoy."

With a piqued glance at the other two officers, McCoy strolled over to the intercom and hit the switch. "McCoy here, Uhura."

"I have an incoming message for you from a Alti Beltix Medical Supply Inc. Do you want me to have patch in there or sickbay?" There was no denying the perplexity that rang in Uhura's at the source of the message.

"Um…No." McCoy hastily replied, speaking out of the side of his mouth while watching Kirk and Spock advance on him. "Send it down to my cabin, if you don't mind."

"Aye sir." Was the surprised response. "Bridge out."

"McCoy out." Switching the intercom off, he plastered a smile back on his mug as he faced his two friends. "Well, I'd love to stick around to be persecuted some more, but I do have a few things that need to be taken care of."

"Bones, what was that all about. Alti Beltix Medical Supply Inc.?" Planting a hand on the wall above the intercom, Kirk skewed McCoy with a hard stare.

"You know, a pharmaceutical supplier for Star Fleet." McCoy tried to chuckle as he spoke.

"I know who they are Bones! What do they want with you?" Snapped Kirk before the Doctor had a chance to dive out the rec. room door.

"They contacted me the a couple of days ago." Edging toward the door, McCoy half-heartedly shrugged the smile dying on his face. "They would like to discuss the chance of me endorsing a few of their products after Star Fleet okay's it. And I really shouldn't keep them waiting, Jim."

Kirk stared with more resentment than he'd felt in months at the now closed rec. room door's, then pushed away from the wall to turn back toward Spock. Meeting the generally apathetic gaze, Kirk instantly noted the glimmer of inquisitiveness in the Science Officer's eyes.

"It seems in the last few day's the Doctor has been unusually fortuitous." Spock observed, folding his hands behind his back.

"Or he wants me to think he is." Muttered Kirk with carefully contained amount disgust as he thought about the ten games he had lost the day before.

An eyebrow rose again at the comment, as Spock gave the Captain a curious look. "I seriously doubt, even the Doctor would not waste the small amount of time to simply humiliate you at a game of chess."

Halfway out the door, Kirk whirled around to eye his Science Officer coldly. "You know Spock, either you're going to have to learn to lie at some point and time. Or I you're incapable of supporting your Captain and don't wish to have your important father find out you're spending the rest of your career in the brig, keep you're moth shut."

**TBC**


	6. Chapter Six

**CHAPTER SIX**

Two mornings later, McCoy entered sickbay with an unusually bounce to his step and a grin that had been plastered on his face for the last day and a half. Pausing just inside the door he glanced around the examination area to meet the gazes of the two nurses that were still on duty from the graveyard shift.

The grin widen as the Doctor raised a hand in greeting. "Morning ladies."

Simultaneously the dropped the medical supplies they had been in the process of putting away and converged on the startled Doctor. One, a brunette, wrapped her arms around his waist and began planting numerous kisses on his somewhat stunned but accepting face. The other, a blonde slipped her arms around his neck and proceeded to cover the other side of his face with just as many kisses as her counterpart.

Admittedly thrilled at this greeting that he hadn't experienced since...well, since ever that he could recall since being assigned to the 'Enterprise', McCoy couldn't help but be bewildered by the sudden onset of affection.

"Ladies, I do appreciate the greeting, but ah….I think it would be better if you finished your shifts while I get mine started." He managed through the continued smooching of both young women. "Besides, if either the Captain or Mr. Spock should walk in, it could prove to be a little embarrassing for all of us."

"Oh please." Murmured the brunette in-between kisses. "Just a few minutes longer?"

"Besides, sugar, we all know the Captain's schedule." Purred the blonde, snuggling even closer. "He won't be up for another hour."

An eyebrow rose at that comment, as a rakish gleam flashed through the baby blue eyes in rush of fleeting wicked thoughts. Thoughts that were just as quickly gone, at the idea of all days today would be the day that green blooded computer main frame would decide to waltz in here for a rematch of chess.

"Be that as it may, I would still feel better if we keep ourselves to actual work while on duty. Not that I don't appreciate your…devotion." As he spoke, McCoy disentangled himself from the two sets of shapely arms lingering for only a second, but then shook his head and pulled himself free.

With disappointed pouts firmly placed on their comely faces, the two young gave McCoy a faintly hurt look then slowly return to their work.

Straightening out his wrinkled tunic, McCoy couldn't help but give the pair a double take as he started for his office still trying to make up his mind what that was all about. Although secretly he approved, but he doubted Command would see it the same. More the pity, they might actually get more volunteers if they did.

Plopping down behind his desk, he began going through the files that had been left from the night before by Chapel for him to set up a schedule. Picking up the first file the grin widen several centimeters as he read the name on the label. 'Captain Kirk, James T. Serial number: SC 937-0176 CEC.' The morning was looking better and better with each passing minute. By the end of the day, he may actually have a cure for the common cold, overhauled Scotty's beloved engines so they could handle more whatever the Captain threw at them and successful to Spock in no uncertain terms the top ten reasons's why it was better to have feelings.

Carefully setting aside the file he dug into the remaining pile and began setting up the rest of his work day with lightness in his heart that he hadn't felt since the day he heard Joyce was getting remarried and his contribution in alimony was no longer necessary. It had been good day then as well, the only time anyone on the 'Enterprise' could recall seeing the Doctor doing a cartwheel after leaving his cabin.

This day was beginning to measure up as being just as good, he smugly thought as his eyes moved back to the disk that contained all the unknown secret's of the most illustrious Captain in Star Fleet.

However, he had at least an hour to kill until his victi...er, best friend would appear from his morning toilet to greet the day. Fiddling with the other disks that had been lying on his desk, he started reading the other names and decided it was time for the newer crewmembers to meet their friendly CMO, even if it was ungodly hour.

Hearing the sickbay door open he glanced up from the handful of disk's to see to his surprise, Christine coming in for her shift early. Watching as she walked passed his door, the Doctor's jaw came within millimeters of grazing the desktop when she blew a kiss at him as she went by.

He came back to reality at the sound of the disk's he held clattered to the floor and hesitated once to give the open door a double take through squinted eyes before stooping to pick the dropped files. She had to be joking, with everything that three quarters of the Fleet knew about her feelings toward a certain Science Officer that would remain nameless and pointy eared. There was no way that she could be serious. Not Christine and not while on duty. He knew her too well, to think she was even being nothing more than horsing around. That's what he thought until he heard his office door shut and the lock activated.

Cautiously he peered over the edge of the desk while he forced his fingers to keep picking up the disks off the floor between his feet. In the meantime, his widen a fraction and then another as his eyebrows wriggled up his forehead in distress as he watched his head nurse began to slither up to his desk. By the time she had pushed what was left on the desk to the floor and was crawling across the desktop toward him, McCoy began to wonder if he might have been a little premature on the true outcome of his day.

Little did the Doctor realize that his day wasn't going to get any better, since at the same moment, Spock stood patiently outside Kirk's cabin, as he had been for the last ten minutes. Ten minutes that he had spent silently listening to the raving that had been going on within the cabin for more than thirty minutes.

He had ventured out of his own cabin a few minutes earlier than normal, when Kirk's ranting had become more muffled after moving to the other side of his cabin. Stationed where he was Spock could pick up word for word what the Captain was bellowing without straining his fine tuned ears. No one questioned his lurking about his friend's cabin door, whenever anyone would pass by and noticed the loitering First Officer. The word had spread quickly after young Kevin Riley on his way to the bride one evening had made the mistake of pestering the Vulcan on his frittering of time around cabin door's that weren't his. Since Stardate: 2826.8 no one had seen or heard the young navigator again. They weren't the brightest and best Star Fleet crew for nothing.

Pushing away from the wall, Spock took up a stance on an invisible mark just a thirty-two inches away from the door when it came flying open and a frothing Captain stood in it's place.

"I'm going to kill him! I don't care if he is the best CMO, on the best starship and has the best Captain as his best friend!" Snapped Kirk, after giving Spock a two-second look of fuming befuddlement. "I'm going to kill him, Spock!"

"I presume you are referring to Doctor McCoy, Captain." Spock quietly said, glancing down in faint disgust as a speck of foam from the Kirk's tirade that had landed on his newly laundered shirt.

Kirk sneered at his First Officer. "No Spock, I was referring to Dr. Quinn, Medicine Woman. Now, get out of my way. I have a country fried physician to throttle before breakfast."

Without a solitary syllable of dissuasion, Spock took a sliding step to the right to allow the Captain to storm toward the turbolift, then quickly whirled on his heels and followed the still snarling Kirk.

"Level 7." Kirk spat at the computer, oblivious to the spray of spittle that covered the intercom as he continued his bombastic display. "I can't fathom what made that oily confederate snake think that I wouldn't figure out that he had stolen my deal with Stellarline Trek Co."

"Perhaps the Doctor did not expect you to deduce it on you own and so swiftly." Offered Spock as the lift descended the three levels to sickbay.

Casting a look up at the Vulcan that could've withered a battle scarred Klingon warrior, Kirk growled. "You're not good at it Spock, so please don't try to comfort me."

"I apologize, Captain." Replied Spock, as the lift slowed to a stop. "I will refrain myself from any further consolation on your part."

Throwing one more glance at his First Officer before charging out into the corridor, Kirk couldn't help but grumbled to himself, knowing those pointed ears would pick it up. "But you're getting the art of being a pain in the butt to near perfection."

An eyebrow arched along Spock's brow at the faint comment he had caught, was more of his response to his own amusement than surprise. There was nothing more agreeable in the morning than vexing as many senior officers as possible before actually getting to the bridge.

"If that country bumpkin of a witchdoctor thinks I'm going to sit on my laurels and let him just steal my future retirement proceeds, then he's got another think coming. And you!" Stopping in front of the sickbay door, Kirk whirled on Spock poking a finger in his face. "With all that man has done to you in the last week, including pointing out your mistakes in your mapping system of all the sector's we've been to since I took command of this ship! Then had the audacity to correct them in front of the entire bridge while giving a speech that asking for help once in awhile wouldn't even hurt a Vulcan. And you just sat there like one of those stone garden elves taking it. Doesn't anything that bucolic quack say or do, bother you one little iota?"

For a moment, Spock contemplated the question as he stared at the sickbay door. "I see no point in becoming resentful over a matter that was intended to be…"

"Never mind. Never mind!" Interrupted Kirk, immediately recognizing the beginning of lengthy response that would do nothing but irate him more. "Just once though, I wish you'd agree with me without stopping and thinking about it first. Whatever happened to blind loyalty?"

Spock started to answer the rhetorical question, only to wisely stop when Kirk leveled a baleful glare in his direction before the two men entered the sickbay.

Just within the door the both stopped when seeing the two young nurses sitting on the examination table, the blonde filing her nails while the brunette was checking her lipstick in the reflection from a metal clipboard. The Doctor was nowhere in sight, and neither was Christine Chapel who usually made it a point to be on shift several minutes before McCoy.

"Are you two suppose to be on duty?" Kirk asked of the two primping young ladies, who had registered any reaction of their entrance.

The blonde flicked a bored look in Kirk's direction. "For another fifteen minutes, but we've finished everything so we're just waiting for the Doctor to come out to see if the sweetie would like us to stick around for awhile. You know Captain, like we used to do for you."

A rush of blood came to the surface of Kirk's face as he nervously cleared his throat. "I take it Doctor McCoy is in his office then?"

"For the last ten minutes. With Nurse Chapel." Answered the brunette, her gaze still riveted to her reflection as she was now inspecting her mascara. "With the door locked."

The color had dimmed to a warm pink along Kirk's cheeks, as he glanced at Spock who was now studying the office door with sudden interest.

"You two are dismissed, I'll have the Doctor contact you if he thinks of something." Kirk said waving them out of sickbay as he watched Spock move over to the locked office door.

The two women mumbled some extremely uncomplimentary remarks in reference to the Captain as they slipped off the table as swayed passed the two officers on their way out of sickbay.

"Well Mr. Spock, are you going to knock or are you going to let me tear down the door?" Came the sarcastic inquiry from Kirk as he joined Spock at the office door.

A woman's laugh that quite familiar to both men penetrated the door, causing the pair to exchanged questioning looks.

"Override the lock Mr. Spock. Either Nurse Chapel has finally murdered McCoy or something worse is going on in there that needs to be put to an end." Ordered Kirk, a nerve barely began to twitch under his left eye.

Without a word, Spock instantly set about to break the security code to deactivate the lock, which he had finished before the Captain had chance to finish his words.

When the door hissed open, the two men squeezed through the door simultaneously believing they were stepping into a murder in process only to freeze in their steps and stare in unabashed shock at the scene before them. Well one was unabashed shock; the other simple tilted an eyebrow five-point three-millimeter's that could've been called shock if one was pressed.

Still seated behind his desk, McCoy tried to smile at the two men standing in his office but failed miserable as the corners of his mouth drooped. His mind was rapidly coming up and immediately dismissing ideas of how to explain why his Head Nurse was planted in his lap, running her fingers through his hair and softly nuzzling his right ear. Nothing that came to his mind would've been believable even to him and he had been in the room throughout it all. One thing was clear to him was that he had to speak up before Spock and mostly definitely before Jim had regained the capability to talk again.

"Now Jim, give me a chance to explain." Jumping to his feet, McCoy gritted his teeth at the sound of Christine unceremoniously hitting the floor with a tailbone splitting thud at his feet.

It was several seconds before Kirk did find his voice as he stared dumbfounded at his Chief Medical Officer, then at his Head Nurse who was clawing her way back to her feet. He wasn't exactly sure if he should be completely stunned or stunned and envious, or just plain mad as hell. He compromised with something in between as he straightened up and stared at McCoy with heated expectancy.

"Please Doctor, I can't wait to hear this one." He said folding his arms in front of him, as he tried not to let his eyes stray over to Christine who was adjust her dress and other things that were need of adjustment.

"Perhaps we should allow Nurse Chapel to leave to compose herself, as well as terminate any embarrassment on anyone's part before it occurs." Spock quietly pointed out, also having difficulty in maintain eye contact with McCoy.

Brushing back a thick lock of blonde hair, Christine cast an unpleasant look at the Captain and First Officer the beamed at the Doctor before her right hand latched on to the left side of his face and gave it a surprisingly firm shake.

"Don't let them bully you, Lover." She said before letting go of McCoy's face and sliding around his desk and brushed between the two other officers.

Both eyebrows had risen at the behavior exhibited by Chapel, as Spock's gaze followed her around the desk to where she stopped in between him and the Captain. They rose another centimeter or two, when she straightened her shoulders and looked him dead in the eye.

"It's over Elf Boy." She sniffed, then glanced over her shoulder at Kirk with an equal amount of pitiful disdain. "Same goes for you, Roly-Poly."

With that she sashayed out of the office, leaving two men gaping after her then each other, before turning back to McCoy, who was incapable of controlling his exaggerated manner of rocking on his heels. He knew he was probably dead, but that wasn't going to deter the moment of utter exhilaration he was feeling.

"All right, Bones." Kirk growled regaining himself, although there was wave of bright red recurring along his face again. "Let's hear it, or would you rather have us step outside to give you time to work on something?"

"To be honest Jim, it wouldn't matter." McCoy sighed; toying with the disks that he managed to retrieve from the floor before Christine had dumped herself into his lap. "I don't have any explanation for what just happened. Believe me I didn't encourage any of it. She just came in like she always does…Well, no she didn't actually…Now that I think about it."

"Well, don't keep us in suspense, Bones." Kirk pushed, leaning over the desk to give the Doctor a cynical, disbelieving look. "What was different? She was wearing nothing but balloons?"

"No, she blew a kiss at me." Sinking back into his chair, McCoy pursed his lips and began to pinch his lower lip in thought.

"She blew a kiss at you." Repeated Kirk, then gazed over his shoulder at Spock who still seem dazed at being tossed over for the Doctor. "That's it. She blew a kiss at you. Nothing else. Like maybe you were standing in here without your pants or worse."

Not hearing a word spoken to him, McCoy was backtracking over the last week and everything that had been happening to him. Something's were coming together while others weren't, and all of it was still fuzzy around the edges, but he was beginning to see the possibility of a connection.

"Bones! Are you going to answer me or wait until spring returns and you begin to bud out?" Kirk barked, snapping McCoy back to reality.

"Would you if I asked you leave, Jim? Give me a little time to put it all together, so to speak." Answered McCoy looking up at Kirk, his lower lip still caught between his forefinger and thumb.

Reading the Doctor's face for something, even if he didn't have a clue what, Kirk snorted in disappointment when seeing nothing but the same big blue thoughtfully, innocent eyes. Pushing away from the desk, he half turn toward the door hesitating when he gave Spock a halfway concerned gaze, at the way the Vulcan was still eyeing the Doctor with an unreadable stare.

"It better be good, Bones." Kirk said over his shoulder, as he grabbed Spock by the upper arm and began to pull him out of the office. "I think Spock has gone into shock."

Staring out his office door once he was alone, McCoy sighed and halfheartedly attempted to re-stack the disks on his desk. He wasn't sure what he was going to say to either of them for an explanation, considering he had no idea of what was going on for the most part. The one thing he was definite on was he needed something for a story or he was going to be finishing out his time with Star Fleet working in prison on the outskirts of the Klingon border, that were just hearing about penicillin.

Slouching in his chair after thirty minutes of no inspirational thoughts, he was considering how bloody his punishment would be if he just throw himself on the mercy of his commanding officer, when he heard quiet laughter. Certain no one had come in once Kirk and Spock had left, he stood up then cautiously made his way to his office door, peering into the examination room ready to duck if anything should come flying.

Instead his gaze feel on a small figure stretched on the examination table, all in green and a three-corner hat pushed over his face. Scowling at the figure, there was no question in the Doctor's mind that even his face concealed, that it could only be one individual. 'Fred'.

**TBC**

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	7. Chapter Seven

**CHAPTER SEVEN**

"How the hell did you get here?" McCoy manage to sputter, after several quiet seconds.

"Ach, now me boy-o, is that anyway to be greetin' the very soul who be lettin' ye taste some of the pleasures that ye be believin' that ye needed." Sitting up as he spoke, 'Fred' pushed his hat back and grinned at the Doctor until his yellow stained teeth glared like beacon.

There was a pause as McCoy stepped into the doorway, eyes narrowing as he shifted his head to one side while processing what exactly the leprechaun meant by that.

"What are saying? That all of this that's happened to me in the last week, is your doing?" Accused the Doctor, as dawn began to break the horizon. "And it's McCoy!"

"Aye, do ye truly be thinkin' that ye coulda done all of that on yer own? 'Specially when it be comin' to all those delightful lasses you've have dallyin' about this wonderful ship of yoursn. Tis true I considered assistin' ye in that area of yer dreary life first, then I gets to thinkin' that these chums of yoursn, might be suspicious if the lasses be findin' you so beguilin'. Insteadin' me mind thought it be best to go with the gamin' way." 'Fred' was unable to resist the temptation to chuckle as he spoke, while standing up in the middle of the examination table.

"But why?" Began McCoy, then switched tracks before his second sentence had completely formed in his mind and fixed a cantankerous eye on the small man. "You make it sound as I couldn't get any one of these women to even look at me let alone,...er..."

"Aye, ye have to be agreein' that ye be in a serious shortage of the company of the women folk lately. An I also be thinkin' there be enough patron saint's for the world of your medicinal witchery." The pity in the leprechaun's face for the Doctor's circumstances didn't help McCoy deal with his sagging spirit. "As soon as I set me foot on this fine ship of yoursn, I could see ye be in a might bit of trouble when ye couldn't get any of these fine lasses to takes notice of ye."

Deciding to divert around that subject for the time being, McCoy struggled with the reins of his temper now that he knew this fiendishly, troublemaking elf was capable of a few tricks. With everything else that he couldn't explain to either Kirk or Spock, he doubted there would be words enough to elucidate on why he had suddenly sprouted donkey ears or worse.

"So, even all that with the companies clamoring for endorsement was you? This whole week has been nothing but you're intervention then." There was such note of dark, sorrowful realization in McCoy's voice that for a second one could've expected him to sit down where he was and start crying. "None of it was me?"

"Nay." Answered "Fred', as he leapt to the floor and began to inspect all the goodies that surrounded him. "'Tis naught of yer own doin', me bo…er…McCoy."

This took some time for the Doctor to soak in as he moved to perch on the edge of the examination table oblivious to what 'Fred' was up to, as he had strolled off into the intensive care unit.

Several minutes had passed by, as McCoy continued making up his mind how he should handle the situation without the chance of being zapped into a bowl of oatmeal. Once in a while he would hear the sound of a switch being played with in the other room, but when no alarms were set off he figured the little guy wasn't doing too much damage. After a moment of thought he reconsidered his judgement, not wanting anything else he couldn't explain to occur. He stood up and started for the next room then faltered in midstep, cringing inwardly at the sound of the sickbay door opening again.

It was Jim. Wonderful.

"All right Bones, I managed to hoodwink Spock into going to the bridge. It'll get his mind back on track." Walking up to the examination table, Kirk gave the Doctor a wary look keeping the metal table between the two of them.

"Good. I really didn't think he'd take it that bad. About Christine, you know. Considering everything." McCoy replied, clearing his throat uncomfortable between each break of words.

"Hell, it didn't have anything to do with Christine." Kirk blew off, with a wild gesture of a hand. "He just couldn't believe that even you would be carrying on that way while on duty. Not in such a public accessible area at any rate."

"Oh." McCoy said, unsure if he or Christine or possibly both should be insulted.

"But we'd both like to know what the hell is going on Bones!" Kirk abruptly snapped, half-heartedly lunging across the table at the Doctor. "Tell me what the joke is now, and I won't be forced to publicly humiliate you in front of Command with those vid's that I've been holding from Argelius II."

Blinking at each barked word, McCoy wondered if the cabinet that held the hypos would by chance be unlocked. It was becoming apparent his own sanity wasn't the only one in question here any more.

"Believe me Jim, there isn't any joke." Began the Doctor as he started edging toward his cabinets. "I mean, how could I pull off anything on this scale?"

This did give the Captain a moment of hesitation. "You've got me there, I'll admit Bones. There isn't enough people onboard that like you well enough to go along with this."

'This day was shaping up just fine.' Thought McCoy as his face scrunched up in an irritated scowl. If he wasn't crazy by the end of it, his self-esteem was going to be totally nonexistent.

Shifting a few centimeters' closer to the cabinets he caught sight of a blur of green in the next room and abruptly changed gears of thought as he impetuously leapt toward the Captain.

"Bones! What the hell is the matter with you now?" Kirk growled pulling back from the grabbing hands of the Doctor. "Isn't it enough you have every female crewmember chasing after you!"

"Listen Jim, I want you to quietly go over to the door to the intensive care area, peek in and tell me what you see." Whispered McCoy, once he had a firm hold on Kirk's arm.

Doing a fine imitation of his First Officer, Kirk raised an eyebrow as he stared at the Doctor then glanced toward the open door before shooting a look around the room before creeping forward. Sliding flat up against the wall to the right of the door, he glanced once more at McCoy trying to ascertain if the man was doing all of this for one big laugh at his expense. Seeing no hint of amusement in the man's face, Kirk wondered if they both had finally slipped off their shuttle routes.

Watching him from the safe spot behind the examination table, McCoy rolled his eyes wondering if the man could do anything without having to go into his audacious, matinee idol bit. Things would probably get done alot quicker around here and possibly they would still have most of their original security crew.

Slowly angling his head around the door Kirk scanned the larger room from one corner to the other, eyes darting under the bio-beds and around cabinets he looked over the entire space then stepped back over to McCoy.

"Okay Bones, now do you want to tell me what it is I'm suppose to be looking at?" He asked, his exasperation coming close to being vented once more.

"You mean you didn't see him?" Alarm filled McCoy's voice as he spoke, as headed over to the open door.

Pausing in the doorway he took a quick gander and spotted 'Fred' fiddling with the panel above one of the bio-beds oblivious to the mass meltdown of sanity within the other room. Stepping back into the examination room McCoy shot both eyebrows up in utter bewilderment, but then took one more peek then stepped back over to Kirk.

"He's sitting in there on one of the bio-beds, and you didn't see him?" McCoy said, jerking a thumb over his shoulder at the open door.

Kirk's eyebrow again rose as he gave his Chief Medical Officer a hard threatening look before he went back to the door and took another glance around the room.

"There's no one in there, Bones." Kirk informed the Doctor, after moving back over to the examination table. "Do you want to tell me who it is I'm suppose to be seeing?"

"'Fred'." McCoy mumbled, not liking the glint in the Captain's eyes.

"'Fred'? And who is 'Fred', Bones?" The tone in Kirk's voice resembled that of a medical assistant playing along with a mental patient until someone with a straitjacket showed up.

It didn't appear as if the Doctor was going to answer, when he set his lips into a tight, thin line. "A leprechaun."

Kirk straightened to his full height, glanced around the room in several directions in a matter of seconds and pursed his lips before meeting the worried blue eyes.

"A leprechaun. Right." He slowly said, with a single nod of his head. "Bones, I'm going to suggest you contact Dr. M'Benga and have him finish your shift while you take some time off for a rest. I think all of this sudden...success, has been too much for you and your usual rustic ways. And before you decide to argue the matter any further, I can make that an order in stead of a mere suggestion."

In the midst of disputing what Kirk had said, McCoy immediately clammed up at the sound of 'order', whirled on his boot heels and headed for his office to contact M'Benga.

Jim already half believed he was crazy, he sure as hell didn't want wind up crazy and sitting in the brig all in the same day.

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A Private Little War and That Which Survives

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TBC


	8. Chapter Eight

I apologize here for my representation of Spock. I've never claimed I could ever write the character in any proper sense that any Spock fan would approve of, but I try and hope no one see's him as being too mangled in the rest of the story.**

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**CHAPTER EIGHT**

It was just before noon, when McCoy decided to take a chance and left his cabin heading for the cafeteria of lunch. Nothing had happened for the last three hours in the shape or form of 'Fred's' good intention's nor had 'Fred' himself made an appearance since he was sent to his cabin. He knew he shouldn't feel some relief by this fact, considering it usually contained nothing but ill-boding feelings. However, he was hungry and was already bored with own company, which should be some comfort for his sanity. Or was it?

Shaking his head at his own jellylike resolute, McCoy stepped into the empty turbolift and came within a hair of visibly collapsing along the railing at the back of the lift. Halfway to his floor, he began to have second thoughts about having lunch in his cabin instead of being forced to confront the dozens of women crewmembers that would be in the cafeteria. Crazy, in the brig and having every male member of the crew royally frosted at him, didn't sound like something he wanted to get back to what family that would still claim him back on earth.

He had somehow escaped being assaulted between his cabin and the lift but wasn't entirely unscathed in his footrace. Two wolf calls, three proposal's and one patting of his derriere, by his count. If he didn't know the truth he would've been highly flattered, but seeing as he did it only added to his chagrin.

Opening his mouth to override his order to the computer, McCoy froze jaw hanging slack as a familiar, thick brogue filled the lift. He seriously wondered if there was any way that he could by pass security and just send the entire lift crashing to the bottom of the shaft.

"Now laddie, ye be lookin' at this all wrong." 'Fred' sounded troubled by the way the Doctor was reacting.

Blue eyes crackling with impending violence, McCoy slowly dragged his glare from the lift doors down to the two-foot tall man standing to his right, also braced against the back wall.

"Oh, I am? Am I?" The Doctor slowly hissed through his clenched teeth, while his hands tightened around the railing until knuckles were nearly transparent. "And what makes you say that?"

"In the time that I been blessed to be roamin' the world's I never known a lad yet, who be willin' to shun the favor's of the lasses when they be so agreein'." Was the scholarly response from the leprechaun, as the lift seem to have slowed down to a crawl. "Then again, 'tis possible that ye bein' so shy could be suggestin' ye lackin' in certain worldly skills."

"Listen fella, I've had plenty, and I do mean plenty of relationship's with a number of highly attractive women in my time! I was even married, had a daughter and everything before you ever came along!" Snapped McCoy, turning on the leprechaun then abruptly stopped himself and ran both of his hands over his face and through his hair. "I can't believe I'm standing here arguing about my sex life with someone that doesn't exist."

As soon as he said the words he was grateful that Jim wasn't in the vicinity. He'd never had let him forget it, even when they were both retired, wizened-up Star Fleet Officers chasing one another down in their plasma propelled chairs in some obsolete retirement center.

"Ack, be ye claimin' that ye don't be seein' me very self standin' right here in front of ye?" 'Fred' had suddenly adopted a provoked attitude, as he leapt out in the middle of the lift all set to defend his existence with fisticuffs if needed. "I'll have ye be knowin' me bucko, that I be standin' here as in the flesh and blood as livin' breathin' as ye be. If ye be doubtin' me I'll be glad to be knockin' that gourd of yoursn you claim to be carryin' that straw you be callin' a brain clear off yer scrawny carcass."

That was what the Doctor needed to finally get over his initial worry of being metamorphosed into a pile of potato pancakes and took up a defensive stance of his own.

"Okay, that's it! Real or not, you little piece of blarney stone, I ain't takin' any of your flimflamming guff, if it's dipped in that brogue of your's or not!" He shot back, pushing off the back wall and jabbing a slightly crooked finger in the brilliant red face of 'Fred'. "And another thing, you keep insisting on meddling around in my love life, existing or not, I may be forced to rip those pointed ears right off of that head of yours."

By the time he had spit out the first thirteen or fourteen words of the sentence the lift door's whooshed open and Spock stood there gazing at the Doctor and his extended, quivering finger.

Eyes widening at his obvious faux pas, McCoy swallowed hard, retracted his finger and straightened up hoping to recover some minor dignity as he tugged self-consciously at the tail of his shirt.

"If you're wondering Spock, that wasn't meant toward you." He finally said after a second or two of embarrassed silence.

"Really, Doctor?" Murmured Spock, arching an eyebrow and folding his arms in front of him in a waiting manner. "May I ask to whom it was meant for?"

Glancing around the now empty lift, McCoy made a sour face as he hurriedly came up with an excuse that Spock would accept from him. Which shouldn't be too hard, knowing what the man already thought of his basic aspect's on life in general.

"I was just practicing a few lines from a play." He threw out; praying it would fly once it hit the air. "You know, trying to keep them fresh in my mind."

"Play?" Replied the First Officer, head tilting a degree or two to the right. "I do not recall hearing any mention of a play being organized aboard ship."

"Well, it's still in the works, you see." He weakly attempted a smile, silently cursing the green blooded Sherlock Holmes. "Er…Spock, you're obviously heading somewhere. Get in, before someone starts thinking I'm an oil painting you're thinking of buying for that sanctuary of sterilized, bland logic you call home."

There was a hesitation on Spock's part as he contemplated the idea of pointing out that the Doctor had his own peculiar choice in personal dÉcor in more than just his cabin, but chose to refrain from the subject. At this moment, it appeared the Doctor had considerably more serious difficulties at hand. Such as his dubious mental condition.

Stepping into the lift, Spock moved to the right side of the small space keeping his dark eyes fixed on the Doctor, maintaining a simple observation faÇade on his face.

"I presumed you were on your way to the cafeteria, Doctor." He said once the lift doors had closed.

"Yea, well, I changed my mind." McCoy grumbled, as the lift started moving again. "A human can do that Spock, you know. Maybe you can't or won't, but human's do have the capability of changing their minds from time to time. Not saying that were wrong all the time, but that we just like using that privilege from time to time. There's nothing wrong with a man going back to his cabin to have a liverwurst and onion sandwich with a cold cup of coffee, is there!"

The Captain's concerns were well grounded ascertained Spock, as he briefly shifted his gaze to the wall behind the Doctor, then met the irascible blue stare edged with panic again. It seem wise, for the time being, to continue along with the Doctor and his erratic behavior no matter how illogical it became.

"No Doctor, I see nothing wrong with your decision. I was merely making conversation." Replied the Vulcan, after his quick deduction.

"Oh." McCoy said, feeling if possible more mortified that before. "Sorry."

The eyebrow twitched along Spock's brow again as the lift began to slow down. "May I inquire as to the play you are planning to participate in?"

A strange look appeared in the Doctor's eyes. "What play?"

"The play that you claimed to be rehearsing for while I was preparing to enter the turbolift." Spock prodded, as the lift doors opened back on to level four.

'Damn. Damn. Damn.' McCoy's face was filled agony at what had just happened, as he hung his head and followed Spock doggedly out of the lift. He was going to have to keep on his better than this, if he planned on remaining outside of a wacko ward before he managed to give 'Fred' the slip.

"It's a short, little known Shakespearean play. Sort of a sequel to 'Midsummer's Night'." He explained, after fumbling around for a quick recovery.

"The phrase you used, in reference to ripping the ears off of someone, does not have the same articulation as other Shakespearean works that I have read or heard." Spock innocently commented, as the two men approached the Doctor's cabin.

"It's a sequel to 'Midsummer Night' but we've set during the American Civil War right before Sherman burned Atlanta. I'm playing the guy they try to bum a match from when they gallop into town." McCoy elaborated, glaring after some young red headed yeoman who had managed to pinch him on the behind as she passed by.

Turning to face the Doctor, Spock gave the man a look that most would've considered just as stolid as ever, but McCoy noted the glint of doubt in the deep brown stare. He truthfully didn't believe he could get the bluff around the Vulcan, but he had atleast had the decency not to challenge him on it, as Jim would've.

"I would be interested in reading this play you are to be participating in, Doctor." Countered Spock, killing what regard McCoy had for the man at that second.

"Well, you'll have to talk to Uhura about getting you a copy. I need mine." Replied McCoy hurriedly, after he stared at the Vulcan murderously for three point two second, then started into his cabin. "You know me, Spock. I need all the practice I can get."

'Indeed'. Concurred Spock to himself as he gave the Doctor's cabin door a speculative look, the eyebrow finally rising several centimeters again.

Entering his own cabin, he immediately went to the workstation when the intercom beeped and lightly touched the switch.

"Spock here."

"Kirk here, Spock." Came the Captain's voice, sounding more aggravated than it had when he was on the bridge.

"Captain, I've just had a curious encounter with the Doctor…" Spock began only to be stopped short by Kirk's annoyed urgent tone.

"Spock, hold on to your 'bezhun-zehl's' you're not going to believe what just came through channel's." Kirk's own voice told that he was still having trouble believing it.

When nothing more followed right away, Spock maneuvered the eyebrow within a few millimeters of his hairline. "Sir?"

"I still can't believe it. The Federation and Star Fleet are both awarding our Doctor McCoy with their top honors for his medical contributions, research and I don't know what all, but I'll bet his bedside manner had absolutely nothing to do with it." Groused Kirk recalling all the times he was forced to spend time strapped down to a table in sickbay for tests that he was positive were not part of the Star Fleet basic physicals.

"How is this possible?" Asked Spock, finding the news more than a little odd.

"I'll tell you how it's possible, a certain Vulcan First Officer 's father, who happens to be an Ambassador, put him in for them? And why? Because he happened to save his life while onboard my ship during that trip from hell to Babel!" There was not doubt that the intercom speaker on the command chair was covered with the foamy spittle of the enraged Captain.

"Captain, if I may intercede here, I also have some news concerning the Doctor." Spock broke in, sensing that the conversation was on the verge of running away if he didn't.

"Oh yea? What?" Came the snide reply, coating the intercom with another layer of froth. "He's won the Best Oscar Award for Musical Score for a Foreign Film?"

"Not that I am aware, Captain. I was referring to the what we had discussed early after departing sickbay in reference toward the Doctor's recent change."

"Oh yea?" The tone had abruptly transformed when Kirk answered, leaning heavily toward eagerness. "Do tell."

"It maybe more prudent if we discuss privately Captain." Spock said, as he deliberated over what he was about to propose.

"You want me to come down there, right?" There was an exasperated note in the words. "You can't come up here to the bridge?"

"Considering what I wish to discuss has to do with the Doctor's mental state, I think it would be more judicious if we spoke privately." Reiterated Spock, hoping this wasn't going to be another long evolved argument.

"Mental state? I'm on my way down now."

It was difficult to ignore the almost giddy note in the Captain's voice before the connection was closed.

TBC


	9. Chapter Nine

**CHAPTER NINE**

For the last thirty-five minutes, Kirk had been listening to Spock conjecture on the Doctor's questionable behavior as of late. Actually he had been listening to First Officer drone on while he roamed around the Vulcan's cabin, picking up every other item that caught his eye, mostly things that were shiny and glittered.

He had lost interest in what Spock had been saying after the first ten minutes, wondering how long it would take for the man to get to the point that he had been waiting for since arriving at the cabin. Admittedly, the man was the best First Officer around, which he knew from testing the water for a possible trade after they had returned from the Imperial Universe, and had concluded he still had the best deal. If the man just didn't have to take every single incident and break it down into a physic's equation, would be a pleasant change though. He had been known to give a forty-five minute dissertation on earwax and the potential danger it can cause.

"Captain, it would be a great benefit if you would behave as if you were listening to what I have been noting." Spock appeared at Kirk's side as he spoke, and forcibly removed the seven hundred-year-old vase from the Captain's hands that he had been trying to spin on an index finger. "We may be able to find a solution more quickly if you would do so."

Clasping his hands behind his back while watching Spock carefully replace the priceless item back in it's ascetically pleasing spot, a corner of Kirk's mouth twitched in an irked fashion.

"All I want to know Spock, is his condition severe enough I can get him sent to a Star Fleet subsidized mental institute and off my ship. If I can, just tell me so and then get the paperwork ready. I'll be waiting on the bridge with my gold tipped fountain pin."

Giving the vase a final quarter turn to have it exactly as it was before the Captain had placed his grimy hands on it, Spock straightened and returned his ever so slightly annoyed stare back on Kirk.

"You seem unusually fervent in removing the Doctor from the 'Enterprise', Captain. I find that highly…suspicious." The left eyebrow twitched on each syllable of the final word.

"Spock, there are a lot of things I find that I have to tolerate onboard my own ship. Like Scotty flaunting the fact he knows engineering better than I do. Sulu happening to know what most of the switches on the bridge do. That Uhura will always have better looking legs than I will. And having to put up with you and your never-ending spout of incessant monotonous logic. Thank God Chekov maintains his low level aptitude, but in a facetious manner, and I have my devastating good looks as well as charm, or I wouldn't stand out as I do." Explained Kirk, while running a hand through his already perfectly styled hair as he caught his reflection in a metal wall decoration. "The last thing I need is to have that grits-swilling, anemic shaman start making a move on ground's that I've worked most of my career on establishing as my exclusive territory."

"Referring to the women." Concluded Spock, looking faintly more bored than usual.

"Damn straight." Kirk said, making sure that the one front lock of hair was perched just so that it appeared ready to fall over his forehead at any second. "After everything I've had to go through to get that reputation, I'm not letting it slip away now."

Spock nearly replied to the comment, but thought better of it knowing the mood the Captain was in and instead decided to stick to his original reason for wanting this private discussion. If the man could manage to pull his attention from his primping to hear him out.

"Captain, I believe we may be able to sufficiently solve the Doctor's situation so it would not be necessary to have him placed into a mental rehab institute." Suggested Spock, seriously ruminating over the idea of tying Kirk to a chair for the rest of the meeting.

Faltering in his grooming, Kirk glanced over at Spock with a shadow of disappointment in his face. "Really? You just don't want to ship him off?"

A corner of Spock's mouth nearly moved in frustration as he stared at Kirk, self-assured what he was truly thinking at the second wasn't expressed in the steady gaze. He just kept reminding himself that there was less than seven months of this five-year mission left and another crew would be saddled with the man, if nothing happened between now and then.

"No Captain, I do not. It would seem more discerning if we attempted to solve the problem first before taking any unwise and unnecessary actions."

"Oh. Well, I just thought it might solve a few problems for everyone if we took care of the whole mess as quickly as possible." Replied Kirk with a cheerless inflection, shooting one more look at his reflection before forcing his attention back to his First Officer. "You wouldn't have to deal with his pointless arguments and I would get out of those diabolical physicals, not to mention being forced to eat nothing but leaves and twigs for days on end."

"Star Fleet would no doubt send us a replacement for Doctor McCoy if it became necessary to have him removed." Spock quietly informed the Captain. "There is an old earth saying 'Better the devil you know', seems apropos at this time."

Lips pushing off to one side in a pursed contemplative expression, Kirk slowly nodded as he grasped what his Science Officer was emphasizing.

"So, you don't think we should just ship him off then?"

"No, Captain." The Vulcan's voice had an edge to it that was creeping close to irksome.

"All right then, what do you propose?" Resigned Kirk, settling his frame on the edge of the worktable. "Something simple I hope."

Ignoring the lack of support from the Captain, Spock sat back down in his chair and silently speculated before looking back up at Kirk. "The Doctor's recent prosperity and peculiar conduct seem to coincide with one another. There fore, logically it would seem that the problem is one and the same. Has Doctor McCoy mentioned to you lately of anything unusual occurring in his presence?"

Kirk's face instantly changed at the question innocently asked by Spock, into a barely containable large smile that he immediately smothered as he began to respond. "Well now that you mention it Spock, yes he did. Early today, in sickbay."

Sensing Kirk was setting him up, Spock didn't see any other choice at the time but to let himself fall into the trap if they were going to accomplish anything at all this day. There were days it was wiser to be the fool rather than the king.

"Exactly what did the Doctor tell you?" The question came at last, after Spock had taken the appropriate time to place his fingertips together and give the Captain the chance for his build up.

"He said, there was a 'leprechaun' in sickbay with him." Kirk said, giving his cuticles an examination then slide a curious look over at Spock from the corner of his eye.

For a moment, Spock merely blinked at Kirk then looked down at his own hands and let the chair ever so slightly swing back and forth. He remained that way for an incredible and excruciating, to Kirk's mind anyway, thirty-six point two seconds before coming up for air to reply.

"Fascinating." Murmured the Vulcan, his chair coming to a halt.

Kirk bit his lip to keep from grunting the first words that popped into his head, but silently wondered what kinda nest egg the Vulcan had socked away after copyrighting that stupid word.

"That doesn't tell me anything, Spock. That doesn't even tell me if you're talking about the same subject. Does it or doesn't it mean we have to keep McCoy?"

"All of the Doctor's prosperity began shortly after our return from Kilindarbi, a town and planet that is ninety two-point-four percent inhabited by Irish descendents." As he spoke, Spock stirred his computer from its sleep mode and began skimming through the library files. "It was believed by many of the Irish that these 'leprechauns' would travel with families when they would immigrate to a new location. If this small piece of folk lore has any tangibility to it, then it could be hypothesized that these 'leprechauns' may have followed the families that ventured out into space."

"That doesn't help either, Spock." Sighed Kirk, running a hand over his face bumping that front lock of hair enough to let it gently fall into its place. "Because if you're saying what I think you're saying, this 'leprechaun' could be real, McCoy may not be crazy and I'll still have to go through those damn physicals' every other month!"

"If the Doctor was or wasn't crazy Captain, it would still be necessary for you to under go all necessary physicals' ordered by Star Fleet." Spock calmly pointed out as he continued reading the monitor, knowing fully well what the reaction would be from Kirk.

"Yes Spock, I know that. But with Bones, I could talk my way out of it every other time." Kirk instantly pointed out, jumping up from his perch then began roaming around the cabin.

"More than likely to keep from listening to your incessant lamenting, during the procedure." Murmured the Vulcan just loud enough for the Captain to catch every other word.

Wavering in mid step, Kirk shot a look at the back of Spock's head but was unable to come up with a speedy and sharp retort with only half hearing what was said. Yet, he was positive what his First Officer had muttered what was meant to be more than slightly insultive to his person.

"So, what you're trying to tell me in your usual exacerbatingly enigmatic way, is that there is the off chance that this 'leprechaun' doesn't exist just in McCoy's mind." Kirk finally surmised on his own, coming up behind Spock's chair. "That 'it' might actually be running around my ship, at this very moment doing God only knows?"

Cautiously turning his chair around as not to bump into the Captain, Spock cocked his head to the right. "He could very well be in this room, as we speak."

Taking a hasty step backwards, Kirk began throwing glances around to every corner of the cabin while self-consciously crossing over his chest. "You joking."

The arched eyebrow was the answer the Captain got.

"You're serious." Grunted Kirk, while he literally deflated in front of his Science Officer.

"Very much so, Captain." Spock said, with a slight ascending movement of his head.

"Damn. Well then,…think of something, Spock." Demanded Kirk, taking the step back over to the workstation.

The other eyebrow rose to match it's twin. "I suggest Captain, that we speak to the Doctor. All of this does concern him."

"Right. I was just thinking the same thing." A well practiced look of deep contemplation set on to Kirk's face as he started rubbing his chin with his right hand. " Let's have a little talk with Bones."

Closing his eyes in a moment of calming, Spock made a mental note to himself to check the Captain's files later, when this was done. It was becoming evident that it was past due for his annual psychological testing again.

**TBC**


	10. Chapter Ten

**CHAPTER TEN**

McCoy was stretched out on his bunk, hands tucked behind his head and staring at the ceiling. He had flopped on the bed as soon as he entered his cabin and began to consider what options he had in front of him.

One: He could admit that it was all a big joke meant for one hearty laugh at their expense. He scratched that one as soon as he thought of it, realizing it would mean the opening of simple country doctor hunting season. And granted he was skinny and wrier, but there was only so long he could out dance phaser fire.

Two: He could claim temporary space insanity. Then declare 'Fred' was a concoction from mental fatigue of dealing with a Star Fleet Captain who would rather deal a ship full of bureaucrats than show up for his physicals and a First Officer who refused to ever lose even the smallest arguments. No, that wouldn't work either since he'd probably wind up puling out his dancing shoes anyway if he actually said that out loud.

Three: Pack his gear, sneak down to the transporter room and bribe the kid working the shift to beam down to the first planet within range they came to, after the rest of the crew had retired. The only problem is it would be recorded into the ship's computer and they would track him down like a pack of black and tan hounds on the scent of an escaped chain gang crew in the middle of Georgian backcountry. Then there was matter of facing a dishonorable discharge for desertion, if he mad it back to Star Fleet Command. His southern pride, not to mention middle-aged heart, couldn't take it.

Four; The truth. The whole unvarnished, bizarre sounding truth. That should get him a few days of mental evaluation if not seriously discussed as a nominee for early discharge paper from Command as well as swearing never to mention his service in Star Fleet to anyone ever.

Whichever one he finally succumbed to, he knew his nearly untarnished record in Star Fleet would be down, out the window, down the toilet deleted permanently from existence. The point was the only way he'd probably ever practice medicine or anything else again, would be in some sleazy dark alley, behind a liquor store.

The door chimed abruptly and McCoy was forced to grab the side of the bunk to keep from rolling on the floor in his nervous state. Glaring at the ceiling then toward the door, he mumbled a few befouling phrases in Latin under his breath.

"Come." He called, swinging around to sit on the edge of the bunk, solid in the knowledge that it definitely wouldn't be 'Fred' this time.

Standing just outside the cabin door, Spock and Kirk gazed speculative at the Doctor sitting glumly on the edge of his bunk, with all the despondency of a boy awaiting his punishment. It was a pitiful sight, to the Captain's thinking especially if anyone ever else ever witnessed one of his officer's behaving in a manner that would reflect on himself. On the other hand Spock saw it as another tragic aftermath of what kind effect the Captain had on his senior officers, at times.

"What're you two waiting for? Gold embossed invitations? Or do you just like gawking at an old man who's a crystal short for a full load of dilithium?" Snorted McCoy, as he stood up from the bunk and struck a defensive stance folding his arms in front of him while giving the two a jaundiced look.

Brushing passed Spock, Kirk took the first step into the cabin taking up his "We come in peace', posture, but made sure he could dive back out if the Doctor did make any sudden moves toward him.

"Listen Bones; Spock and I have been discussion you're…situation, at length." Began Kirk, trying to come up with some words that wouldn't hint as his insistence of removing the Doctor from his ship.

"Oh really?" Was the cynical response from McCoy, with a matching arched eyebrow as he shifted his stare over to Spock as the Vulcan entered the cabin behind the Captain. "I can't wait to hear what the two of you came up after putting your heads together. What is it? That if you both put in a good word with the board, I might be able to get a short stay at a low security mental hotel? Then when I get out I'll have a chance at a position dumping bedpans at an inferior Star Fleet senior care center?"

"The Captain has informed me of the conversation that transpired between the two of you in sickbay earlier, in reference to the 'leprechaun'." Spock said, making a point of coming up abreast with Kirk, an eyebrow twitched when the Captain gave a slightly piqued glanced.

"Thanks, Jim. I appreciate that. Really." Grunted McCoy, poison dripping from the words and filled the pale blue stare aimed at Kirk. "Believe me, I'll remember this when you're next physical comes up. If I'm still here."

Scowling at the obvious threat, Kirk shot his First Officer a 'See! Let's dump him.' look. "Actually Bones, we've decided that there might possibly be some truth in what you said."

Eyes darting from Kirk to Spock and back again, the one eyebrow sank and the other rose to a level never before seen as McCoy fixed an irascible stare on his Captain.

"Let me get this straight. Because 'he' said that it's possibly got an iota of truth to it, then it's probably so." As he spoke, McCoy stabbed a finger in Spock's direction with thick amount o vehemence. "But when it was coming outta my mouth you're ready to throw my gear not to mention myself, on the first stagecoach for the nearest banana farm. That's a real confidence builder, Jim."

"You have to admit Bones, it did sound just a tad peculiar even for you. I mean, you have come up with a few that were more fiction than truth in your time, just to see if you can drive Spock or me or half of the entire crew a little on edge." Kirk pointed out, trying to control his temper.

"Come on. A few harmless April Fool's jokes over the years?" Was the waspish reply from the Doctor. "God, Jim, why do you have to take everything so personally and then over react on top of it?"

Stiffening, Kirk pursed his lips tightly until they were nearly invisible in an attempt to curb his first reaction the McCoy's retort. He probably would've gone with his first reaction if Spock hadn't been standing right there easily preventing any physical harm coming to the Doctor, even if the skinny quack deserved it. If Spock wasn't going to let him ship McCoy out, he could have the decency to look away for at least fifteen seconds.

Instead, Kirk counted to ten, actually seven, before pressing on and growling through clenched teeth. "The point is Bones; we're giving you the benefit of the doubt and are willing to listen to an explanation, if you have one, as to how and why this…'leprechaun' is meddling with the operation of my ship."

Face clouding over again with thoughtful suspicion, McCoy realized he had very little choice if he wanted to get out of this mess with some sanity and still be able to collect his pension. For several minutes he went through what had happened when they had separated back at Kilindarbi, finding 'Fred' hanging from a tree and mistakeningly letting the sawed off hooligan loose. When he was finished he felt as if someone had lifted Mount Rushmore off of his shoulders and could help but grin in a giddy fashion at Spock who had taken the whole tale in with a single rationally barbed comment.

"Did this 'Fred' give you an explanation as to the reason for his imprisonment?" Inquired the Vulcan after a few seconds of nodding to himself in his silent rumination.

"Well, yea. Said that whomever it was, was after his treasure. I'm assuming he meant pot of gold, when he said it." Replied McCoy with a shrug of his shoulders, while lightly perching on the edge of his bunk again. "I guess they left him there planning to return later to force him into showing where it was. I was going on what I remember from childhood stories Spock. It's not like I meet pointy-eared, smart mouthed hobgoblin everyday of my life."

All three men hesitated as Kirk and Spock regarded the suddenly ill at ease Doctor, once he realized what had tumbled out of his mouth.

"You know what the hell I meant!" He finally snapped, with cantankerous huff as he rubbed the back of his neck in an embarrassed gesture.

"Indeed." Murmured Spock, with a shake of his head that unnoticeable by the humans. "Have you considered the plausibility that he may have only said that to gain his sovereignty?"

"Meaning what?" McCoy said, frowning as he already had feeling he didn't like what it implied.

"Meaning that your little friend played on your gullibility so you would set him free Bones." Explained Kirk, coming out of the Doctor's bathroom once he had finished going though his medicine chest. "In other words, it's more than likely that 'Fred' was hanging from that tree for another reason than what he gave you."

"Other than the fact the guy is a royal pain in the derriere, why would anyone go out of their way to find him and then hang from a tree in a sack? After meeting the twerp, I wouldn't think there would be too many that want to try and find him to begin with?" Asked McCoy staring down at the toe of his boots before glancing up expectantly at Spock.

"Recalling the reason for our assignment to Kilindarbi to begin with, one would conclude to prevent any further disruption's on the planet." Rationalized Spock as he shifted his gaze over to Kirk who was tugging open one of the drawer's of McCoy's worktable. "Wouldn't' you agree Captain?"

Knowing he was caught, Kirk let a half smile slip on to his face while slowly closing the drawer back up. "I was just about to say the same thing when you started to speak, Spock."

Both Science Officer and Doctor raised an eyebrow before exchanging glances.

"However, I would be interested in listening to the rest of your insight on the matter." Kirk continued, nonchalantly stepping away from the desk a look of gravity finally making an appearance on his face. "Such as why 'Fred' would find it necessary to infiltrate my ship?"

"Apparently the inhabitants of Kilindarbi have discovered he is the individual behind their quandary as well as finding a resolution that kept him from any further interference. If this is so, our infiltrator needed to find a new place to take up residence. The 'Enterprise' would proved both a source of travel as well as a small diversion for the creature until he has chosen a place suitable." Answered Spock, deciding to focus his gaze on a spot on the wall behind McCoy instead of looking in Kirk's direction. "Which may take considerable amount of time, if he has found the 'Enterprise' agreeable to his needs."

"You mean we might be stuck with this Irish toad for weeks?" Stammered Kirk, not liking the implication of what that mean, especially when it came to his sagging love life of recent.

"Possibly longer. Months to even years, if we're unable to contain him." Spock said, a nerve twitching a fraction along his lips.

"Oh God." Lamented Kirk, sagging down in one of the empty chairs.

Ignoring Jim's flagrant overreaction, McCoy gave Spock highly uneasy look. "And how do you propose we contain him, without him knowing about it?"

"I suggest you, with the assistance of the Captain, keep him entertained while I research the situation further."

"In theory Spock, that sounds easy enough. However, remember we're talking about a guy who can be invisible at will and is seemingly untraceable when he does so. If he is on the 'Enterprise', how do you suggest we locate the breathing garden accessory?" Asked McCoy, just as his intercom buzzed to life.

Moving over to the desk, McCoy flipped the intercom on while his eyes scanned the top of the worktable to see what kinda of mess Kirk had made in his rummaging.

"Doctor McCoy here."

"Doctor this is bridge. The Captain is needed down in the lab's." Uhura's voice was a mix of bemusement and anxiety.

Rolling his eyes toward the ceiling, Kirk lean toward the intercom. "What's the problem Lieutenant?"

"It's been reported the animals have either escaped or been set free, before the communications was disabled. I haven't been able to reestablish a link to them. However, it is also being reported in other areas of the ship of a high quantity of liquor has been disappearing in the same time allotment." Uhura sounded more embarrassed than anything else as she made her report, as if she was unsure what she was saying was going to be believed by the Captain or not.

Both the Doctor and Kirk gazed at one another, then slowly looked over at the ever precise and serious Spock who returned their gazes stolidly as he spoke.

"I believe Doctor, that it may be advantageous to begin locating your 'garden accessory' in the ship's laboratories."

The Doctor snorted quite audibly as he glared from the Vulcan down at Jim. "You know I don't mind the fact that he has a superior intelligence to ours. But I hate it when he knows his being a smartass."

**TBC**


	11. Chapter Eleven

**CHAPTER ELEVEN**

By the time Kirk and McCoy had arrived in the main lab, a security team had already arrived and was in the process of chasing down creatures running, flying or sliming their way around the deck. It was obvious though that they would appreciate any help offered even that from the Captain and Doctor, since they had managed to corral only two of the little jail breakers.

After two hours of dancing around lab equipment, small 'presents' left by the critters and each other they had managed to recapture all of the little beasts but two. At the moment, everyone in involved were willing to celebrate what they had accomplished and let whatever was still running loose go with their blessings.

"This is why I was against this whole idea of allowing the science team bring any of these…animals onboard my ship for study. I don't care if he is Vulcan, he doesn't' know everything and sure as hell never had to take care of any type of livestock on his own, especially ones that left a pile as high as his eyebrows." Snorted the Captain, leaning against a lab table after activating the last lock on the last cage door. "Remind me to have a little talk with him about discontinuing this whole operation, unless he wants to keep them in his own cabin."

Folding his arms in front o him, McCoy gazed at Kirk with a cynical twitch to his eyebrow. "Bad experience with the family cow back in Iowa?"

"That's beside the point, Bones." Snapped Kirk, as he pushed himself from the wall and tugged the wrinkles out of his gold velour shirt. "And it was a pair of goats."

Biting his lip to keep from grinning, McCoy glanced up at young security man who approached them looking as if he just came off the frontline of the 'Battle of the Bulge'. Covered from head to toe with scratches, bruises and bites with several rips in his thin, inferior made red shirt he looked as if he was on his last legs when he paused in front of the Captain.

"I've already ordered security crew's to search every deck for the two remaining creatures, sir. The cleaning crews should be arriving in a few moments and I'm personally going to check the security locks on the holding areas." He managed in-between gasps of breath, trying not to sag against the table if not crawling on it and collapsing in exhausting.

Kirk slipped back into his captaincy/potentate role while giving the battered man a quick scrutinizing look. "Very good, Lt.. And you would be?"

"Wilson, sir." Answered the battle scarred Lieutenant, casting a quick uncertain look at the Doctor. "Head of security."

"Really?" Kirk glanced over at McCoy, who gave a single nod to the questioning gaze. "I thought Tresger was head of security?"

"He was Jim, right up until he disappeared on Kilindarbi with a half a dozen of his men." Answered McCoy, giving Wilson a wearisome look before rolling his blue eyes toward the ceiling. "Wilson then stepped into the position after we returned."

"Right. I knew that." Acknowledged Kirk, flashing a smile at a steadily worrying Wilson. "Good job, Lieutenant. Contact me the second you find the other two animals and anything else that doesn't appear to belong onboard the ship."

"Aye, sir." Wilson answered, then started to turn back toward his crew that was trying to set things back to normal in the lab, when McCoy stopped him.

"You might send a few of your crew up to sickbay, including yourself, in shifts. Just to get those scratches and bites taken care of. A few of those varmints do have some nasty after effects in their arsenal if not taken care of, Lieutenant."

"Right, Doctor." Wilson said, a halfhearted smile came on the young man's face as he moved back over to his crew.

"Well, this proves someof those old wives tales were true about the 'little people' and their penchant for causing havoc." Sighed McCoy once the Lieutenant was out of earshot. "As well as give us a visual example of why he was hanging from that tree to begin with. Who thought one sawed off hobgoblin could do so much damage?"

"Tell me about it." Grunted Kirk, giving McCoy a slightly indignant look out of the corner of his eye. "It'll take me weeks to get my reputation back in order."

"How about month's?" mcCoy suggested as they started for the lab door. "If you're lucky."

"You could be transferred to a third class garbage scolw, Doctor." Snarled Kirk out the side of his mouth. "If you're lucky."

"what are you going to do? Blame me for everything that's happneded aboard this ship for the last week?" McCoy demanded once they had moved down to the dext door along the corridor.

"Until we manage to straighten this whole thing out, it might be an idea." Murmured Kirk as he activated the access panel, then shot McCoy an evil look.

"That's not exactly fair Jim." Argued McCoy as they stepped into one of the smaller labs. "I mean, who says some of this wouldn't have happened anyway?"

In the process of activating the lights, Kirk gazed over his shoulder at the Doctor as if he was on the verge of becoming a babbling schizophrenic Romulan. However, he refrained from saying a word as he shifted his eyes forward but the skeptical look remained on his face as he started investigating the smaller lab.

"Alright, possibly none of it would've happened." McCoy relented, annoyed by Kirk's expression and more so when he hadn't said a word in response. "but I still can't see why I should be the one blamed for all of this."

On the other side of the lab Kirk turned toward McCoy, the incredulity still reflected in his face at what the doctor had said. "Who else onboard this ship found the burlap bag chained to a tree? And who is onboard this ship was gullible enough to open that bag?"

"fine. So it was me! There I said it out loud. I'd ask if it made you happy, but obviously we know that be impossible." Frothed the Doctor, his blue eyes peering around the room for any sign of the hed-haired imp. "Gullible is a strong word, I think. I was doing what I thought was the right thing by helping someone I thought was in distress. Besides, you're going to stand there and tell me you wouldn't have done the same thing? No. I take that back because we all know that you wouldn't have touched that bag unless it had been a voice of the female persuasion that emanated from that sack."

Mouth nearly gaping open at the accusation, Kirk stared at the Doctor as he slowly started moving back across the room. "Are you insinuating that I only initiate any kind of rescue if the party in question is female? That's a pretty strong allegation to be making bones."

"Yes it is, and pretty easy to prove once Command gets an eyeful of the reports that somehow haven't made it to their desk's in the last few years." McCoy said taking a cautious step backward. "And don't forget as of right now I'm the one who has the 'little luck of the Irish' still in my back pocket. So ask yourself Jim, do ya feel lucky?"

Freezing in his tracks, Kirk stared for a second at McCoy then swiftly threw several glacnes in a number of directions, both hands forming into tight fists when he met the twinkling blue gaze again.

Whipping around on his heels, Kirk went back to his search while grumbling under his breath. "I should've gone with my first instinct and sent him to Tantalus V when I found him talking to himself in the rec room showers."

For the several hours the two searched every crevice, crack and cupboard on level G until returning to sickbay where they found Chapel, four other nurses, two svelte engineer junior officers and a young confused security ensign.

It was a first for Kirk when he found himself confronted by a stampede clamoring for the attention of a man other than himself. Momentarily crushed between of the nurses and the security ensign, Kirk gasped for a breath only seeing a blue of a red shirt before crumbling to the ground in a velour heap.

"Ladies, ladies…and…ensign." McCoy held his hands up to hold the groupies at bay and give the security guard a hard cautious stare. "Please, right now is not the best time,…for whatever ya'll have got in mind. The Captain and I are in the middle of a minor crisis at the moment. We'd both appreciate it if ya'll would vacate the premises for a short amount of time. Later, if you 'ladies' are still so inclined perhaps we could talk over a late dinner. Ensign Carlson, it might be an idea if you reported to Lt. Wilson in the main lab before you get yourself into more trouble, son."

Hearing the clattering of heels and disappointed moans as the herd moved out the door, Kirk squeezed open one eye and saw nothing but a dazzle of lights that gradually dissipated into McCoy's smiling face. Wincing, both at the pain that echoed in his head and realization of what just happened in his presence Kirk laid on the floor for several more seconds, snapping shut the one eye once again.

"Look at it this way, Jim. When we do get this whole thing settled, you probably won't remember any of this." McCoy said, giving his friend a look that halfway read sympathy, while the other half was bold amusement.

"And if you're wrong?" Countered Kirk pushing himself up into a sitting position as he rubbed the back of his head that had struck the floor.

"If I'm wrong then you'll be wallowing in a series of miseries that you'll never be able to explain to anyone rationally. While I on the other hand will have many happy memories to console myself with in my retirement yourears. Enjoying the idea that no one around me will have the slightest clue as to why I smile every hour of the day and night." McCoy answered offering his hand to Kirk to assist in rising from the floor.

"Believe me bones, they willl know and it won't have anything to do with any thought's of what's been happening to you for the last week. Besides, what makes you think your wee good luck charm wont' turn the tables on you once he discovers that we're trying to stop him?" Kirk interjected giving the proffered hand a questioning look before deciding it was safe to grasp.

Bottom lip puckering out at the sudden concept, Bones straightened up jerking his hand away just as Kirk was reaching for it and ran his fingers through his mussed hair. It was obvious the Doctor had not considered that option until it was brought to his attention and was mentally running through the numerous things that could pertain to.

Plopping back down on the floor, Kirk glowered up at McCoy before dusting off the boot prints from his person. "We have to find your 'friend' before something happens that forces up to join the Orion pirate fleet."

Gazing down at Kirk with an uneasy glint, McCoy absently ran a thumb over his protruding lower lips. "How exactly do you propose we do that? Considering we can't even find him, let alone trying to stop him?"

The door to the Doctor's office sprang open only a millisecond after the words had spilled from McCoy's mouth and the rest was a blue for both men.

Later, they would both recount the tornado that had a sound of a wickedly amused laughter, the strong smell of whiskey and the blur of green mixed with gray-black blanket of wool. It was the only story they had and were forced to stick to it whenever someone would bring the matter up over the years.

At the moment when the sickbay door opened again and Spock, with a pair of security guards behind him, neither Kirk nor McCoy could've come up with any words that would have believably explained away what the trio found themselves confronted with on the examination floor.

Hesitating in the doorway, Spock surveyed the scene then cleared his throat and finally raised an eyebrow high enough to be two centimeters from his hairline before speaking.

"Captain, I'm sure I don't have to point out that you have both the Doctor and a Trellixian sheep laying on top of you."

* * *

Dagger of the Mind

* * *

**TBC**


	12. Chapter Twelve

**CHAPTER TWELVE**

The smell of livestock still lingered on both Kirk and McCoy after a both took quick showers and changed uniforms before they regrouped with Spock in his cabin. With forethought, Spock had started burning incense as soon as he had returned to his rooms setting a faintly smoking cone in every corner with a precision that was incredibly painstaking.

Both Captain and Doctor made faces when the Vulcan's cabin door opened and the first wave of the strange smelling cloud struck them. The two hesitated, glancing at one another as if urging the other to go ahead until Kirk finally made a disgruntling grunt and took the first step into the cabin.

Waving away a clear path for himself, McCoy continued to scowl as he followed Jim. "What gets me is you want it smell like this."

"I find it preferable to the aroma of domesticated animals." Was the unperturbed response of the Vulcan, as he maintained a good amount of space between him and the two other officers.

"Bones, let it go." Kirk quickly interjected, when McCoy opened his mouth to spew a searing retort that would've ripped the Science Officer to shreds.

Clamping his mouth shut, McCoy gave Spock a look that pretty well stated the fact that the Vulcan had no idea how lucky he was that Jim was present.

Giving his Chief Medical Officer a slightly cautious look, Kirk folded his arms in front of him and shifted his gold flecked gaze over to Spock. "Considering that the Doctor and I have been proven that we aren't apt at either entertaining nor containing our diabolic stowaway, you are my remaining hope to clearing up this rampant insanity."

This was answered immediately by an ill-humored snort from McCoy, who rolled his eyes while flapping a hand in front of his face to dissipate the haze that was swirling around his head.

Head tilting a degree and a half to one side, Spock gave McCoy an unreadable look then shifted it over to Kirk who could merely roll his shoulders. It was a gesture that said that if anything suddenly happened to the physician in the next twenty-four hours that appeared suspicious, he would ask nothing.

Taking this tiny gesture into later consideration, Spock stepped over to his computer and sat down while activating the machine once more. Quietly it hummed back to life, then assaulted the cabin's occupants with the most nauseatingly spriteful music that had been created. This was followed by an equally, if not even more so, stomach twisting happy little fellow dressed in green swinging a mug of ale in the air danced around a black pot of glittering gold appeared on the screen.

A muscle along the Vulcan's jaw twitched albeit unnoticed by the two men that suddenly loomed over his shoulders staring in amused glee at the file that the legendary brilliant science officer had been forced to pull up.

It was a mild embarrassment to Spock, however he had little choice when going through the ship's files since the most recent of faux pas by their illustrious Captain. A mishap that occurred when Kirk had been in the process of recovering his downloaded songs of Slim Whitman and unknowingly deleted two thirds of the 'Enterprise's' file library. Something that Kirk still persisted was not his fault and continually blamed the yeoman that had been in the room with him supposedly 'rebooting his systems'.

After a strained moment, Spock quickly bypassed the first page of the file and moved on to the paragraphs that had what he surmised as their best choice of solving their immediate problems. Once this one was finished he would then discuss with the Captain of proper handling of Starfleet computer systems as well as his dubious choice of music.

"Why didn't you let the little guy finish his dance?" Demanded Kirk when the screen was suddenly filled with several paragraphs of tiny, nearly unreadable words that only a person with perfect vision or a Vulcan with a slight eye stigmatism could read.

"The information that we need was not on that page, Captain." Replied the Vulcan already sensing his Captain's vague annoyance and bemusement at the disappearing dancing gnome, before the man had uttered a word.

"You still could've waited until he was done, Spock." Kirk grumbled, straightening up from his perch on the Vulcan's shoulder. "So we would've had to wait another 30 seconds to find out what we needed to do. You could've waited."

"Jim, when this is all over with I'll dance and sing in a green tuxedo on the bridge for you if you'll let the pointy eared mainframe tell us what the hell this is all about and shut your damn mouth." Hissed McCoy, his momentary feeling of euphoria of being released from his bizarre curse taking control of the junction between his mind and mouth. "We can always tell the days when it's not happening to you, can't we."

Scowling through the thickening haze of incense, and over Spock's head at the Doctor, Kirk growled something that was nearly inaudible under his breath. However, the word's 'shipped off', 'third rate' and 'cashew plantation' did make it to the physician's ears that were surprisingly as attuned as that as the Science Officer seated between the two of them.

"You were saying Mr. Spock." Kirk quickly prodded before McCoy had a chance to mumbled something of a off colored nature about his mother back at him. "Something that may be of use of ridding this plague the good Doctor has brought down on me and my reputation."

Both men of science turned back toward the Captain, each with an eyebrow raised and stares scathingly disgusted.

Blinking at the pair, Kirk quickly amended himself. "And the ship too...and the crew, if you're going to be nasty about it."

"Nice of you to remember the rest of us." Murmured the Doctor with one final perturbed glare before fixing his gaze back on the computer screen. "And he wonders why he keeps dropping in the ship's popularity poll."

If there was a day that he was grateful for the training his father had tired to teach him, today was going to be one of them Spock silently concluded. Making a mental note to send the Ambassador a gift basket of in season fruit from Garry and Mavis's, the Vulcan adjusted the magnification of the screen.

"I have managed to find a few item's along the limited resources that we have that may point to something other than what we believe we are dealing with." He quietly said, trying to ignore the aroma of live stock that was crowding in on ever side of him and cutting off his sinus passages.

"So, what we think we're dealing with might not be at all what we've thought it was all along. That in truth what we may have is something totally unlike anything we've seen before. Something that is possibly more threatening to me…er,..to the ship than anything we've crossed before in our many well publicized missions before?"

Among the words that were thread bare to those in attendance, who had heard this similar speech whenever they encountered similar situations in the last few years, Kirk went into this normal over gesticulating that would've made any magician or card hustler cry in demoralization.

Admittedly among those in the senior staff, it had been an impressive act to behold when first seeing it. The next 140 to 145 performances were what left a bad taste in the many mouths that were forced to observe it, since it was quickly realized that the entire production was of limited imagination by it's creator.

"Jim." McCoy grunted, looking as impressed as any Vulcan would be with a Yahtzee handheld game. "Remember who is in the room with you. It's not going to work. We've both seen and heard it before. So keep the tap show for later when you have a bigger audience."

Freezing in one of his more grand motion's that had been know to make a farm-fresh yeoman swoon, Kirk glowered heavily at the bucolic sawbones then let his arms drop to his side.

"It would be appreciated Bones, when I have my dramatic period if you would refrain from treading on my ground. Bad enough I have to witness you corralling ever female on my own ship! I don't need you transgressing on my only other platform." Argued Kirk deciding to finish his whole set up of maneuver's instead of letting the Doctor completely cut his now well honed skills. "Besides, this helps me in my decision making. My thinking process. My ability to concisely look at a problem and cut thru to the best action necessary. And you do want us to help you get out of this predicament, don't you Bones?"

Scowling even more at the feigned attempt of concern on the Captain's part, McCoy snorted loudly and rolled his eyes around the smoke filled cabin, before pinning the annoyed blue stare back on Kirk.

"If I remember right Jimbo, you were the one who already had thrown my bags, medical gear and shingle on to the transporter pad when this all started. With the coordinates for the closest poorly funded mental farm or deserted planet. Which ever you found first. The only thing stopping you is the fact you know that pointy eared ruler of all his finkdom will send a full and complete record of everything back to Starfleet Headquarters and his dear old Daddy. As well as selling a copy to the Klingons and Romulans for that nice little nest egg that he has been keeping in an account under an assumed Ferengi name that he doesn't think anyone knows about."

An eyebrow twitched along the Vulcan's forehead before gradually rising several centimeter's until it disappeared under the jet black bangs while a long fingered hand slowly reached down and began pushing the desk drawers shut. Then made another mental check to have his safe combination changed as well as the security code to his identification on the computer.

"You continue trying to interfere with my authoritive rumination's and I'll have your ass in the stockade before you can whip out a hypo full of that voodoo juice you call medicine, you surgical simpleton." Barked Kirk while jabbing a finger at McCoy, barely missing the side of Spock's head as the Vulcan had moved around to rejoin the discussion. "And another thing, when this is finally over with I don't want you handling any of the computers onboard this ship unless you're supervised. I don't give a damn what you do to Spock. Hell you could destroy his credit records and change his birth certificate so he should be listed as a Tellerite/Andorian female with nine kids. But if I ever find out that my correct age has been changed or anything else that refers to my personal static's in any form, I guarantee that you'll have good cause for fretting all these years about your genteel southern molecules being scrambled in the transporter. You'll be the first Starfleet southern Baptist, Chief Surgeon who'll have to attend all staff meetings in a petri dish!"

Snorting in a less than dignified manner, McCoy's face screwed up into a cantankerous mask that had achieved his legendary stance in the world of irascibility. He had his own cards up his sleeve if this little tub of hair gel and cellulite thought he was going to start throwing his fluxuating weight around.

"Don't be forgettin' Jimbo, that you're physical isn't that far off. I can make it easy or I can make it the most uncomfortable three days of your life."

"Generally Doctor, our quarterly physical's require no more than an hour of time to perform..." Spock had started interrupting, trying to divert any attempt of actual blood being splattered on his pristine walls.

"You worry about your own damn physical when it's time comes." McCoy snapped back at the Vulcan without shifting his ice hard blue stare from the face of the boiling red Captain.

Recognizing the snarled point and taking it to serious consideration the Science Officer decided to apply his concentration else where when hearing the quiet buzzing from the intercom.

Straightening up some when seeing the suddenly wary glint in Kirk's suspicious glare, McCoy took on the immediate air of smug maliciousness as he folded his arms in front of him.

"Are you implying that you might take on the idea of doing something that would disrupt my captaincy of this ship? As well as put a crimp in my highly active social life?" Came the slow response from Kirk as he began piecing together what McCoy had alluded to, a half concealed note of trepidation in his voice.

"I'll tell ya what the hell I'm implying! I'm in the position that if I have so much as a get the smidgen of a fraction of a possibility that you are in either physically or mentally incapable of performing your duties in any fashion, I can yank that velour covered, panty line showing hiney of yours out of that command chair and into a fat farm for the aged and inept. And there ain't thing one you or any of those ambassador's or Admiral's wives do about it!" The self satisfied smile that crept around the corners of the Doctor's mouth began to spread a little further as he noted the dawning on the Captain's face, after few a seconds of letting the words sink in, and quickly added the next blow. "Hell, if I wanted to I could knock everyone in a senior capacity down and put that kid that you one the bridge that shines your boots and hair put in as captain of this ship."

A strangled gurgling sound escaped Kirk's throat as his vision blurred and unsteady hand grasped the side of the worktable.

"You wouldn't dare." He managed to hiss as the gold flecked eyes narrowed to venomous slits.

"Gentlemen," Interrupted Spock as he flipped the intercom off and started to turn back toward Kirk and McCoy.

"What?" Both men spat back sending a spray of foam into the Vulcan's face.

Flicking away the accumulation of saliva from an eyebrow the Vulcan pushed his chair back another six inches from the two frothing men before continuing.

"It would seem that there is another matter that needs attention at this moment."

The rush of panic had dissipated as Kirk regained his composure, ran a hand quickly through his hair and put on his best faux self-possessed face on then gave his First Officer a well practiced bored expression.

"Details Mr. Spock." He demanded in a voice that had that nauseating casualness to it that made McCoy roll his eyes and cough something under his breath.

"It's been reported that the kitchen and cafeteria are being destroyed by a drunken Tyrellixian sheep."

McCoy shook his head as his blue eyes beseeched some unseen God's overhead. "And the nightmare goes on and on."

**TBC**


	13. Chapter Thirteen

**CHAPTER THIRTEEN**

McCoy stared coldly at the Captain's back, as Kirk furiously preened himself in the turbo lift door's as he had been since they had dived into the tiny compartment.

"Listen Sir Percy Blackeney, I just wanted to say I think you handled that entire faux pas from hell like the dainty little panic monger that we've come to love." The pertinacious physician finally grunted hunching his shoulders another few degree's.

"Thanks Bones." Kirk murmured obliviously as he while running the tip of his pinky over an eyebrow. "I did what I do best."

"Ain't that the truth." McCoy grumbled as the blue slits glinted dangerously at the spot between Kirk's shoulder blades.

"But then, I really didn't do it all on my own." Replied Kirk curling his upper lip to examine his perfect set of canines then ran his tongue over the unblemished pearly's. "You did manage some assistance at the end."

"Like I had a choice." Pointed out McCoy as a nerve twitched under his right eye.

"You saw your Captain in danger Bones, and as expected did what was necessary to protect me." Giving himself one more quick inspection at his reflection, Kirk slipped the well rehearsed curl of charm on to his lips and turn toward McCoy.

"Ha!" Barked the Doctor, the frosty blue stare widening in choler. "Picking me up and throwing me at the damn thing is not what I would exactly call doing what was necessary."

"You were there Bones! You saw what it did!" Exclaimed the Captain, as if the horror of the events were being relived in front of his wide gold flecked eyes. "That creature was on the verge of assaulting my person. God only knows what sort of insidious, cruel intentions the little bastard had in mind if you hadn't made your sacrifice, Bones."

Wiggling himself further into the corner of the turbo lift, McCoy's lips worked furiously as he continued glaring at the inflated man in front of him.

"It was a sheep Jim."

"An alien sheep, need I remind you." Snorted Kirk with the same heated suspicion he would've used with a squadron of Klingon's or the pouty, 36-22-36 blonde in engineering who turned him down for the seventh time.

"It was a damn stereo-typical, complaisant, follow the biggest animal in front of them, domesticated beast of burden. If someone had pulled a red shirt over it, you probably would've mistaken it for the head of security! The only thing it was considering at the time was the cook's hair net it was chewing on and a ball of gas it's had stored up since getting on this ship!" McCoy finally shouted instantly regretting it as the reverberation rattled the eardrums and teeth of both men in the confined space.

"Is that what that was?" Kirk mused as he reviewed the cafeteria incident again in his mind, a twisted and disturbed expression filtered on to his face.

"I thought it was a defensive reaction when you started screaming like Rand."

"That trick is yours Jim. Which reminds me to refill anti-gas prescription when the next med. shipment arrives." Snorted the Doctor with a vaguely disturbed expression flashing across his face. "And I'll have you know Jim, that most people tend to scream after being bounced off a table then ricocheting off a wall before landing on five red shirts."

"Yes Bones. But look at this way you received a high score from the rest of the crew for difficulty." Kirk quickly replied as he whipped back around to gaze at his reflection again with a heavy hue of adoration that would've given Narcissi a serious case of gas. "You blew that whole antiquated, negligent doctor façade right out of the water with the action's you were forced into today."

"Someone had to take action, didn't they Jim." Hissed McCoy from his corner glaring off at the corner opposite of him after briefly glowering at the Captain's back. "I mean, we certainly didn't want you to have crawl out of the recycler and have to come up with capabilities of putting five words together to make an order come out of your fat mouth, did we? That would've put a damper on that little cuddling frenzy you and Lt. Spytlle were partaking in, wouldn't it? I wonder what Headquarters would think of that report. Especially with actual, flesh and blood witnesses this time."

Whirling around on the Doctor again, Kirk jabbed a stubby index finger at the challenging blue eye and started to speak. After a 1.2 second period of thought he reconsidered and spun back around to glare sourly at the lift doors.

"Why is it taking so damn long!" He snarled ignoring the foam that now freckled his reflection.

Barely able to contain his smug smile, McCoy rolled his eyes toward the ceiling while innocently oozing from the corner of his mouth.

"Someone hasn't activated the lift yet."

**-/\- -/\- -/\-**

"So Bones, what's this line I'm hearing about a play onboard my ship that I'm not the star of?"

It was the first time Kirk had spoken since initiating the lift with a colorful idiom that took the computer a moment to decipher. So McCoy's annoyance at the peace being disturbed was understandable.

"Play?" Repeated the briefly befuddled Doctor before the hasty applied subterfuge from earlier gave him a swift kick. "Oh yea, that play. You see Jim, we've been rehashing it and were considering just tossing out what we're working on. Start all over from scratch. Musical has been ruminated upon. A light comedic musical. Not your forte Jim. No big meaty dramatic part to let your behemoth 'personality' of yours to wallow around in. And you know after what happened with 'State Fair', it just seem like an idea that you might want to pass on this."

Pain wrenched Kirk's face at the mention of his last musical stint. "Prudent forethought. I still maintain that I was made for that Ann-Margaret role."

"Right Jim." Sighed McCoy trying to ignore the passing slap he received from a bouncy brunette in a science blue mini. "Just like the 'King and I'. Who woulda thought that a regulation Starfleet replicator wouldn't be able to find a full hoop skirt in your size before curtain time."

Giving the physician a quick suspicious double take, Kirk activated the chimes to Spock's door, while wondering if the good Doctor had bypassed his cabin's private security code again.

"What one did you finally settle on?"

"Hmmmm?" Squinting at the Captain, McCoy frantically ripped through his brain. "'Judgment at Nuremberg.'"

The cabin door opened before Kirk had time to analyze the response allowing McCoy to suck in a lungful of clear air before dodging passed a vaguely perplexed Spock.

"I was about to contact you Captain." Spock said as Kirk swaggered into the still haze filled cabin.

Face wrinkling at the sinus puckering perfumery that seem to have intensified while they were absent, Kirk waved away some of the haze to get a clearer view of his First Officer.

"Problem, Mr. Spock."

There was a withering snort followed by a poorly concealed coughing spasm in McCoy's direction, that was silently observed by the two ever so slightly disdained officer's until the final hoarse bark from the crumpled up Doctor died.

"Hardly sir." The Vulcan finally replied habitually folding his arms in front of him and averted his gaze away from the gasping McCoy. "Actually I have been reevaluating my resources as well as the information the Doctor has given us."

"That's it!" Kirk blurted out, head tilting precisely to let the stray lock fall over his creased forehead. "That's all you've been doing in here since we left! Sitting on that flat ass of yours, introspecting the lint in your belly button!"

"Probably…playing that damn…Ferengi online poker again." Wheezed McCoy while slowly climbing back to his feet. "And after you…ordered him to desist in such behavior…again."

Ignoring the Doctor as he collapsed into the work station chair, Kirk fixed a flinty eye on the ever patient Vulcan, whose well trimmed eyebrow barely twitched in either expectation or dare.

"If you recall Captain," Spock began before it had a chance to involve into another carnival of contrite dramatics and rustic recantations. "it was I who brought the gambling issue to your attention, and it was the Doctor that was discovered using the sickbay computers for his gaming habit while using your personal financial account number."

Several seconds went by as the Captain glanced at McCoy from the corner of his eye as he pieced together, rearranged and then reformed the sentences again.

"You said you'd been rethinking our problem Spock?" Leaping from the chair, McCoy fixed an enthusiastic grin on his face as he bounced through the aromatic vapor toward the two men. "So Brainchild, what have you com up in that wonderfully brilliant, perfectly coiffure hard head of yours? And ya better not use any words like phenomenon, infinitesimal, scientific impossibilities and future defoliation."

"Cluricauns." The Vulcan's lips barely wiggled.

"Hah?"

"Can you say that to your Commanding Officer?" Kirk asked his Chief Medical Officer, a stupefied line appearing between his eyebrows.

"Beats the hell outta me Jim." Grunted Bones unsure if he should be awed, wary or repulsed. "I still haven't made up my mind if it was actually came out of his mouth."

One elegant eyebrow swept upwards several centimeters was the only expression of his undying frustration, as the dark stare glinted like the backside of an iceberg

"Wouldn't mind repeatin' that, Spock? With your mouth this time if you don't mind." McCoy politely asked already shifting enough to make a leap for his life if the need arose.

"Cluricauns." The word was repeated with each syllable clipped with the frigidness of snapping icicles.

"Yep. That's what I thought he said." McCoy said with a solid confirming nod, as if no one else could have come to the same conclusion. "Now you all wouldn't mind telling the rest of us what the hell it is!"

"It Doctor, is perhaps what we are dealing with." Moving back to his computer, a swirling mass of scented fog trailing behind the Vulcan.

"Okay." The belief Kirk's voice would've partially filled a specimen cup as he screwed a deeply profound look on his face and his mind ran wildly trying to grasp something recognizable. "And what you're tying to tell us is what we may actually be struggling with is something that could possibly be something else…."

"For crying out Ghost of Jefferson Davis, leave it at the side of damn road Jim!" Snarled McCoy as he gave the Captain a sidelong repulsed glare, while heading over to the workstation. "By the time you get done with yer embroidered spiel, we could all turned into breadfruit and tribbles will be overlords of the galaxy. Now let Spock elucidate us."

"You'd rather listen to a man with all the personality of a comatose pet rock, and I remind you Bones you were the one who said that." Kirk hurriedly jabbed an accusing finger in McCoy's direction as he walked toward the workstation.

"True, but the pointy eared chunk of granite can construct small concise sentences that even I can understand with only minor help." Explained McCoy propping his rear on the edge of the work table, trying not to suck in a any of the thickening incense. "you can't even sneeze without making it into a three act play. Besides, why the hell should I care what you have to say. Every since this perverse horror began you've been trying seven way from Christmas to get me placed a s a nurses aide in the gynecological department of a woman's prison."

"May I propose gentlemen, that we resolve our current dilemma first." Interrupted Spock his fingers itching for a quick double nerve pinch, if only for a full ten minutes of silence and a chance to roll the pair into the nearest recycling chute. "Then the entire crew will be given an opportunity to decide for themselves which of you two truly is the utmost intolerable bastard."

"Fine." Growled both men, followed by McCoy giving the Vulcan a suspect double take.

"To continue, I believe it is plausible that what the Doctor has inadvertently blighted the ship with is a Cluricauns." Spock had choose to continue as well as ignore the ugly curl to the Doctor's lip.

"I thought it was a leprechaun." The bemused Captain glanced from Spock to McCoy to his reflection in the ceremonial shield hanging on the wall behind the Doctor.

"Possibly." Murmured Spock with barely a noticeable shift of his head.

"Two seconds ago you said it was a cler…clerek…klerkendorn, whatever." McCoy countered, calculating how long a middle-aged human male could stay legally alive after blowing a major blood vessel to ones' brain.

"Cluricauns." Spock corrected while activating the computer again as his lips pressed just a fraction tighter. "Another possibility."

"Spock," There was a irritated chuckle mixed in Kirk's voice as he rubbed his forehead with his fingertips. "It's been a long day, I've been insulted repeatedly, rebuffed repeatedly, thrashed repeatedly and to top it off I smell like Chekov's cabin after Saturday night. Believe me when I say Mr. Spock, now is not the time for one of you r nerve grinding intellectual games to make the same point again. Yes. Yes you do have the biggest brain on this ship. Now get to the damn point before I haul Scotty up here with bagpipe. I understand he has been practicing some of your Vulcan meditation music."

A disturbed shade of green briefly passed over Spock's face as he quickly glanced back at his computer screen.

"From what I am able to ascertain, there is also known in earth folklore another line of…the fairy tribe." Pausing Spock waited for the run of jocularity. When none came he considered glanced at the two humans, then thought better of it. "That are also believed to be a 'cousin' of the leprechaun. The Cluricauns."

Kirk and McCoy exchanged dubious looks at the seemingly obvious or supposedly seemingly obvious explanation, but reluctantly refrained from saying anything.

"Other than a pink tinge about their nose, they are said to resemble a true leprechaun perfectly. However they reportedly refrain from having anything to do with the cobbling profession that their cousins are renowned for." Again he paused, waited a heartbeat letting his fine tuned ears try to catch a whisper of a guffaw then quickly went on. "They are reputed to be the actual cause of misfortune that is generally laid upon the leprechaun folk. Such as releasing animals to run a muck, as well as the appropriation of liquor and in general are known to be obstinate as well as agitators who take pleasure in observing their handy work unseen."

Falling silent, Spock moved his chair enough to look back at the two humans, barely containing the dourness in his steady dark gaze.

Rocking on his heels, McCoy puckered his lips in his speculation, an eyebrow arching as the blue eyes rolled in the direction of Jim who was digging under his fingernails.

"Well, we can guess which side of the family you came from, eh Spock." Murmured McCoy catching the Vulcan's steady gaze and slowly rising eyebrow from the corner of his eye. "

"Humorous, not Doctor."

"You said possibly on both counts Spock. Care to elaborate a tad."

A stunned lull filled the cabin as both McCoy and Spock stared at the Captain and the lucid alertness he had maintained on the core subject at hand.

"Yes…yes Captain." Spock hurriedly offered while glancing back at the screen keeping his emotionless mask intact with some extra work. "I've also uncovered arguments that claim in fact that the leprechauns and Cluricauns are one in the same. Cluricauns are a creation of the leprechauns themselves, to sway blame of their own contumacious behavior away from their own peculiar reputation."

Is it me or does anyone realize were standing around discussing prevention tips for the reputation of imaginary bugaboos?" McCoy abruptly asked to no one particular as he gazed from Kirk to Spock and back to the Captain. "Three grown me standing around talking about something that is a supposed figment of our semi sanity, doesn't sound just a little odd?"

"Remember the stampeding agricultural hit squad." Reminded Kirk studying his left thumb nail meticulously then shot a meaningful look at Bones.

"As well as the seemingly numerous, unexplainable females whom have strayed from their normal behavior of daily life aboard the ship in their irrational pursuit of your person, Doctor." Spock added the aggravatingly indifferent expression had refit itself on to his face as he gazed up at McCoy. "There is also the highly suspicious and instantaneous skills at three dimensional chess."

"Not to mention my ship smell's like Noah's Ark ten minutes after every animal left. And I might be able to handle that except for the fact that every drop of liquor onboard the ship has been sucked up by that little phantasmal fart." Kirk added the pique starting to rise in his voice again, hinting at the tension that was on the verge of blowing the tight seams of his velour shirt.

Sensing himself being placed in a corner of heavy blarney stone, McCoy slowly began rocking on his heels once more as he studied a tiny piece of artwork on the wall through narrowed eyes.

"And I suppose somehow you both are convinced that all of this is my fault." He finally sniffed, still refusing to look at either of the two men.

"Captain," Hand immediately coming up as he intervened, Spock gave Kirk a pointed look to keep him from doing anything rash. "Allow me to ask the Doctor a few questions on the matter, then you may vent your violent frustration."

With an audible snort, Kirk relaxed slightly yet was visibly straining against his aggravation while loudly cracking the knuckles of his right hand.

Clearing his throat McCoy eyed the Captain as he moved half a step away from the man while Spock began speaking.

"While on planet side you intimated that you discovered this…'Fred', in need of assistance. Correct?'

"Yea." Was the grunted response as Bones kept his cautious blue gaze darting for Kirk to Spock and back. "He was stuffed in a burlap sack hanging from a tree. How many ways can I keep telling the same story?"

"You claim to then have assisted this 'Fred' from his imprisonment. Correct?" While speaking Spock shifted his attention back to the monitor, the dark stare scanning the information he had brought up.

"Yea. Eventually." McCoy murmured with a noncommittal roll of a shoulder, not wanting to get into his phaser capabilities again.

"Once freedom was secured, did this 'Fred' proffer anything in gratitude for your aid?"

There was an awkward pause as McCoy became absorbed with a spot on the floor just two inches from the toe of his left boot.

Ten seconds had gone with no response when a strangled humming noise slowly began to rumbled from the Doctor's throat.

Head cocking to one side, Kirk narrowed his gaze on McCoy. "Bones. Why aren't' you answering Spock's question?"

"I don't have to answer any questions if I don't want to." Replied the Doctor, the defensiveness rising higher in his voice as he crept further back another few inches. "I never agreed to answering anyone's questions."

"Bones." Growled Kirk. "What the hell did you do!"

"Nothing! I swear, absolutely nothing." McCoy snapped back. "I shot the little beggar down, we exchanged a few barbs, he tried to say thanks, I in turn tried giving the brush off and well,…you've seen the massive damage they tiny carpetbagger has managed."

"Ah." Murmured Spock with a confident single nod of his head.

"That better be a damn good 'ah'." Kirk responded through clenched teeth.

"The information I have attained, claims that upon extricating any of these creatures, be it a leprechaun or Cluricauns, they are basically required to show appreciation for their rescue."

"Meaning what?" Demanded the Captain wishing for once that someone would get to the damn point. "He'll shine his boots? Darn his long johns? Fix prune Danish for him for breakfast every morning? What!"

"In general, wishes."

"Wishes?" Repeated Kirk a cross of skepticism and disappointment.

The Vulcan nodded once then fixed his gaze on the somewhat distressed McCoy.

"Is that true Bones? My reputation could've been saved if you would've just opened that bucolic yapper of yours and said yes?" Taking a step toward the Doctor, Kirk struggled with a conscious that kept firmly pointing out a Starfleet rep meant nothing in a high security penitentiary.

"Listen Jim, for all I knew he could've been drunk dwarf Klingon! I mean, doesn't' it sound a little ridiculous out here in the middle of space and just happen to find a 'leprechaun'? He coulda been a outta luck galactic insurance salesman who was desperate to make a sales. You woulda reacted the same way." Countered McCoy seriously reprimanding himself for not taking the insanity rap earlier.

"Are you nuts!" Kirk exclaimed straightening up in his vehemence. "In a heartbeat fella, in a heartbeat!"

"And blow that model of integrity you've beguiled the rest of the universe into believing." Chortled McCoy wickedly before taking another quick step back from the Captain's reach.

Glancing over at the computer screen again, Spock patiently waited through the next five minutes of arguing, his mind already setting up his personal vegetarian menu for the next month.

"All you had to do was ask for a damn pecan pie, just to get rid of him." Kirk pointed out with a vicious wave of his hand. "Or just a bag of pecans! Or a damn nutcracker. I could've happily used that!"

"Next time I'm confronted with a mythical fairy creature hanging from a tree in a burlap bag, I'll just leave him there for you to find, all right!" McCoy huffed indignantly crossing his arms in front of him and partially turning his back on the Captain in a sulking manner.

"Captain," Determining enough steam had been brown off but there was a chance of the Doctor being irreversibly damaged, Spock choose to intervene again. "before this situation does escalate any further, may I make a proposal towards a plan."

"A plan? About time." Kirk huffed but kept a careful eye on the pouting McCoy. "The plan, details and number of red shirts needed."

"As of now I believe only one item is required." Was the slow reply from Spock while his eyes moved from Kirk to the only other person in the room.

Sensing the pair of stares, McCoy peered over his shoulder and immediately regretted it as he scowled in defeat.

"Can I at least wash the farm yard hoe down off before you two send me off to die?"

**TBC**


	14. Chapter Fourteen

**CHAPTER FOURTEEN**

The blinking lights of the navigation console glistened brightly off the string of salvia that dangled from Chekov's chin as he dozed at his station. In the helmsman chair, Sulu sorted through the deck of cards for the nine of clubs to finish his game of solitaire that he had been working on since coming on shift. Behind then Uhura busied herself with a game of her own device called 'Reset Spock's Station Beyond Recognition', then beat a hasty retreat to her own chair when the turbo lift doors snapped open.

Freshly laundered, Kirk stepped on to the bridge and surveyed his little domain with a sharp eye. A slight scowl tugged at one corner of his mouth as he noted that his suggestion of more mini skirts on the bridge had again been ignored. When this was over with he would have to find the geek who operated the shift scheduling and do some serious pressuring.

Sliding around the Captain before the lift doors slammed shut on him again, Spock gave Kirk a partially concealed supercilious glare as he moved to his station.

Either feeling the stare of merely suspicious, Kirk shot a glance over at the Vulcan who was now focused on his instrument panel. Dubious shadow still lingering on his face as he stepped down to his command chair, Kirk did a quick check for any indentations, marks or scratches that hadn't been there since the last time on the bridge, then slipped his fanny into the now customized seat.

Abruptly jerking awake, Chekov grabbed the side of his chair to keep from galling to the floor and wiped away the drool from his face with his uniform sleeve. Quickly casting a look over his instruments, grateful that they hadn't drifted into another asteroid belt again, the young navigator grimaced at the grin on Sulu's face.

Crossing his legs, Kirk gazed reflectively at the toe of his boot then flipped a switch on the arm of his chair.

"Doctor McCoy, are you ready?" he asked putting forth a terrible innocent act while keeping his eyes trained on boot toe instead of meeting the curious looks of his crew.

There was several seconds of empty air and Kirk shifted his hazel gaze from his boot to the speaker embedded in the arm of the chair.

"Bridge to Dr. McCoy."

Still dead air.

"Bones!"

"All right, damn it!" Finally came the snarled reply through the speaker. "It took me a few minutes to get the hell down here Jim. I'm not Secretariat for cripes sake! Just because you and the that green blooded….."

Flipping the switch off, Kirk swiveled the chair around to speak to Spock then changed his mind when seeing the Vulcan staring down at this tamped instruments with thinly veiled exasperation.

Absently rubbing his chin as he jerked the command chair back around and heaved an uncertain sigh.

He hated these types of plans. Bad enough he wouldn't receive credit for the overall conception of the plan, but he was forced to sit on the sideline and do nothing. Any report that would come out of this would hardly mention any of his extraordinary deeds, life saving actions and overall good looks. If his dignity and reputation weren't on the verge of being flushed down the toilet it was hardly worth it.

Clearing his throat, Kirk uncrossed his legs then re-crossed the as he began to speak in a tone that did nothing to hide his dissatisfaction.

"If possibly people, for the next few minutes I would like to maintain a few minutes of absolutely silence on the bridge."

A number of dubious stares fixed on the Captain, then glanced at one another while Spock started fiddling with knobs and switches.

"Why,…sir?" Uhura finally asked, throwing an arm over the back of her chair, the metal nail file she held glinting in the track lighting.

Uncrossing his legs again, Kirk slowly swiveled his chair back around toward the communications officer and screwed one of his captivating smiles on his face.

"Consider it a brief working theory of Mr. Spock's." He explained already aware that his senior staff already perceived him as being slightly tetched and really didn't see how it would help any to open up the whole leprechaun twaddle.

A delicate sculpted eyebrow rose in a show of doubt on the Lieutenant's part, as she gazed over at Spock then at the Captain again, who had swiftly moved back around to face the main screen.

"Theory on what?" Inquired Sulu, half turning in his seat to look back at the Captain.

Staring back at the helmsman, Kirk sucked in his lips until they disappeared as he weighed the idea of telling the truth to his faithful crew or lie again.

Lips reappearing he managed another charmed smile. "Top secret, Sulu. Starfleet only wanted Spock and I to know."

Doesn't Doctor McCoy know?"" Uhura asked, inspecting her claws with a look of a cat waiting for the mouse to finish the last crumb of a five pound loaf of cheese.

"Er,…a little." Kirk quickly murmured, the command chair slowly moved allowing him to peer carefully back at the communication's officer . "Enough so he'll know when to alert us to anything highly suspicious."

The heavy awkwardness that clung to the Captains word's caused both helmsman and navigator to exchange curious looks before Chekov started to open his mouth only to be cut off abruptly.

"Listen! I'm the Captain here and I don't care what the bureaucrat butt kissing Vulcan tells all of you!" Snapped Kirk settling farther back in the command chair with a smug glare around the bridge. "Now for the next 15 minutes, head's down and quiet time!"

One snort, a few indistinguishable murmurs and several poisonous glares were the response to the order, before the bridge fell silent. Save for the quiet hum of the ship's engines, computer beeps and the immediate gentle snoring of Chekov.

Satisfied, even if the reaction hadn't been enthusiastic, Kirk clipped the intercom switch once more.

"Okay Bones, we're ready anytime you are." Sighed Kirk, chagrin marking his face as he found his gaze resting on the dribbling navigator.

"Sure you are." The seething snarl filled the bridge, one could almost see the flecks of foam spraying from the intercom. "You ain't the one down here riskin' the chance of being turned into a horta with an allergy to dust bunnies and floor mold."

Swiveling his chair toward Spock, Kirk glowered at the man for several seconds then gave up when realizing that the Vulcan was too absorbed in his tamped equipment to note the pointedly surly glare.

Jerking the command chair forward again, Kirk resigned himself to the idea that he had little to do but wait.

Wait and hope to hell that before he finished this thought and the entire crew weren't turned into fruit flies.

**TBC**


	15. Chapter Fifteen

**CHAPTER FIFTEEN**

With a grimace McCoy set the bottle of Irish whiskey on his desk and settled down into his office to wait.

Wait and seriously give consideration to a change of positions. Like if the Orion's were in need of a good sawbones who didn't ask too many questions.

Flopping down in his chair, he glanced around his suddenly small office uncomfortably and wondered why he hadn't thought of finding a hiding spot for a phaser. Cynically laughing to himself at the notion, especially when hearing himself explaining the sudden addition of firepower on his med supply list to Jim.

Realizing nothing was stirring, he opened the bottom right drawer and retrieved a pair of highball glasses. Sitting them on the desk he picked the bottle back and gazed at the aged Bushmills Irish Whiskey label, wondering how long it would take for Riley to discover it missing.

With one quick twist he broke the seal and filling one glass a third of the way before setting the bottle back down. Holding the glass up he studied the dark amber liquor, silently repeated a quick prayer I his head then downed a large quantity of the whiskey.

Once the familiar relaxing warmth began to settle over his nerves, McCoy slouched a little further in his chair, threw his right leg over the corner of this desk and cleared his throat.

"You know Fred, I've been thinking' of some wishin'."

Waiting for a moment the Doctor raised his glass to his lips again, this time taking a quick sip his gaze roaming around his office.

"Yep. I've been reconsidering that whole wish offer we were discussin'." He murmured absently swirling the whiskey slowly around in his glass, a slight scowl on his face when he heard his own voice crack. "Been ruminatin' a bit about a few things I've always wanted to do and never had a chance."

Still nothing.

"Fred?"

Sight nor sound nor smell of one leprechaun could be caught in the confinement of the office.

"Oooooo, Fred?"

Getting nada in response, McCoy let the glower deepen on his face as he bounced his irascible glare off of every surface in his office.

Already feeling like an ass when he was somehow threatened into this plot, the foolhardy thermometer was steadily rising with each passing second. Especially when visualized three quarters of his staff hunched around the opposite of his locked office door. Truth be known, he wouldn't be too shocked to find out that Jim was broadcasting this tragedy all over the ship, not just the bridge. Not too happy, but not shocked either.

"Listen Fred," Shifting in his seat McCoy tried not to let the annoyed edge in his voice show through too much, well aware of what the consequences could be if it did. "I know you're around here somewhere you Gaelic Mrs. Murphy's cow. So you might as well show yourself. Unless you want to watch me polish off this 100 year old bottle of Irish Whiskey on my own?"

The empty highball glass began to slide across the desk until it clinked loudly against the whiskey bottle. A nerve twitched along the Doctor's lip as he hesitantly picked up the bottle and began pouring a healthy amount of the aged liquor.

Once three fingers of whiskey had filled the glass it was swiftly lifted off the desk and began to move across the room. The light of the office glinting softly against the lip of the glass as it was held up for a gratified inspection.

"Aye boy-o. T'would be a shame to be a wastin' such a wonderful bit of golden liquid refreshment on the likes of ye."

An eyebrow rose along McCoy's brow as he watched the stout bearded figure of the lecherous leprechaun emerge from a multi-hued fog into a solid form.

For a long moment, Fred admired the glass and it's contents with an appreciative smile. With a gentle and relaxed sigh, he quickly downed half the glass then smacked his lips with loud relish.

"Tis a grand, grand thing lad." Sighed Fred contentedly while perched on the front edge of the desk. "Mother's milk that only the lovely emerald lady herself could create."

"Glad you approve." Grunted McCoy, although the sincerity was lacking considerably. "I was frettin' you might disapprove."

The twinkle in the little man's eye brightened as he gazed over at the Doctor, and smiled in a sly manner before downing the rest of his drink.

"Ye be speakin' something of wishes, laddie."

"Er, yea." Replied McCoy picking up the whiskey bottle and quickly began to refill the leprechaun's glass, while keeping his eyes fixed on the little man. "I thought maybe we could discuss that whole wish thing you mentioned. Been thinking about that quite a bit lately."

Glass touching his lips Fred hesitated, his eyes darting over to the Doctor then at the wall opposite him and then took a long pondering sip.

"Have ye now boy-o."

"Yep."

Settling back in his chair, McCoy retrieved his own drink and sipped at it thoughtfully, keeping his narrowed gaze fixed on the small man.

"Now what tis it ye be musin' over so diligently lad?" Fred murmured in-between short sips of whiskey, his eyes momentarily shifting back to the Doctor.

Swinging his other leg up on to the desk and crossing his ankles, McCoy tilted his chair back several degree's, trying like hell to appear nonchalant.

"Just been considering that at my age there are a few things I never had a chance at before and may never see an opportunity like this again."

"What be left in a man's life of needin'? Fine young lasses surroundin' ye. Tis a fine ship ye be dwellin' on, with a fine crew givin' ye the respect a man of yer grand station. Tis a fine thing indeed laddie. Tell me boy-o, what else be there a man be needin?" The leprechaun began to stroke his red tangled beard with contemplation while the small man's eyes glinted into slits.

"Well you see Fred," McCoy hesitated and laughed more out of nerves than any kind of humor. "I never actually asked for any of that. In fact, I never wished for anything from you."

"From what I be seeing of yer life on this flying carnival of yers, it be seemin at me ye be needin' all the assistance ye can be getting'. Tis been a good stretch of time since ye was given such attention. 'Specially by the fetching lasses here or any t'other spot within this mighty long and wide universe. " A yellow toothed grin spread across Fred's face as he gestured with the now empty glass for a refill.

Starting to tip the bottle, McCoy wavered for a heartbeat as he fixed a thinly concealed caustic glare at the overly pleased leprechaun. Lips twitching he continued pouring while swallowing the ball of thorny rankling that had crept to the back of his throat.

"Well that would've been fine and dandy." He managed threw his teeth as he set the bottle back down with a resounding thud. "And believe me it's not that I don't appreciate any of it. If I had actually asked for any of this, I mean. Since I didn't, I think we have a few things to settle."

Wariness deepened the lines of the small man's face while sucking down a third of his freshened drink.

"Be sayin' what's on yer mind, laddie. These games of yers be tryin' of me time."

"You still owe me my wishes."

For a moment Fred stared at the Doctor. The bright suspicious merriment dimmed as he hesitated between reactions toward McCoy's statement. After a fashion he downed the rest of his whiskey, set the empty glass down and slipped from the desk edge on to the floor.

"See now laddie," Chuckling as he spoke, Fred began going through his pockets of he coat and trousers. "…ye be enjoyin' all these lovely delicacies I be given ye out of the goodness of me heart. T'would be appearin' that you be, as yer folks seem to takes great pleasure in repeatin', ye be out of that grand luck that I be so fortified with, me boy-o."

Eyebrow's shooting upwards then furrowing low along this brow, McCoy pursed his lips into an annoyed pucker.

"Is it me or are you purposely overlooking the fact I never asked you for one thing?" He persisted, his eyes darting over to the intercom unit that was open to the bridge, then refocused his gaze on Fred.

"Nay laddie." Replied the leprechaun still forging in his pockets. "T'would be seemin' to the likes of me that you be ignorin' a feast that I be offerin ye."

"Hardly." McCoy dryly said as he recalled the dozens of headaches 'Fred's' good intentions had caused. "What we're dealing with her is a technicality. A technicality that says you owe me those wishes."

"Ye be spoutin' gibberish me buck-o!" Growled Fred suddenly fixing has hard stare on the Doctor, his right eye squinting coldly at the man. "Gibberish that be rinigin' with the evil tinge of slander toward meself and me kin. And I be warnin' ye laddie, it be something that none of me kin take kindly at!

Lips twitching into a thin, white line of vexation, McCoy stared with the same amount of irritation before he finally responded.

"Oh yea!"

Squinty eye narrowing another sliver the leprechaun let a devilish smile emerge from his scraggly beard.

"Aye, me buck-o."

**TBC**


	16. Chapter Sixteen

**CHAPTER SIXTEEN**

"We're all going to be turned into fruit flies." Groaned Kirk quietly as he hung his head and began to rub his forehead with his fingertips. "In another two minutes I'll be in command of a swarm of fruit flies."

Still fiddling with his controls, Spock had planted himself on the edge of his chair and barely flicked a look of mild interest in the Captain's direction.

High emotion from the man was nothing new to anyone that occupied the bridge at that moment, save for the fruit fly part. If any reaction was expected from those around him, Kirk would've been sorely disappointed if he hadn't had the fruit fly situation on his mind.

Running her nail file slowly across her left thumbnail, Uhura gazed from the disturbed Sulu and Chekov, the fine sculptured eyebrow arching higher, while the two men merely shrugged in their usual befuddlement toward their Captain.

It wasn't as if the entire crew hadn't been working on a pool of the Captain's sanity and it's final meltdown since the first day he stepped on the bridge. Then again, very few Starfleet senior officers came dancing on the bridge dressed like Pal Joey singing "Luck Be Lady', for an icebreaker. Few hadn't considered the vaguest notion that the good Doctor was going to make this a tag team of insanity. If they managed to squeeze through this episode of bizarre, a number of those present were considering the thought of changing their betting strategy.

Crossing and uncrossing her shapely legs, Uhura shot a questioning look toward a detached Spock, while wondering two things. Who was Fred? And could she possibly slip off the bridge for five minutes for a quick potty break and be back before anyone noticed.

"Fruit flies. I tell you." Kirk moaned again as he whirled the command chair around for some comfort from at least one of his officers or at least pretend to be listening. "Damn fruit flies."

Stern expression barely surfacing to his face, Spock swiveled his chair in the Captain's direction making a sever slicing motion across his throat. Jaw setting, the Vulcan coolly stared down at Kirk seriously wondering if having a highly respected Ambassador as a father would get him the lesser charge of justifiable manslaughter.

Audibly snorting, Kirk grasped the arms of his beloved command chair giving his Science Officer a pronounced glowering then jerked the chair forward again.

Grumbling something in reference to green blooded and pointy ears with several incoherent words mixed in that if suspicion was correct would've again changed the air azure. Or navy blue reflected Uhura, as she riveted her disquieted stare on her console that was screaming and flashing annoyance at being ignored for the last 20 minutes.

Exchanging obviously enthralled smirks at the Captain's nonplused quandary, Chekov and Sulu silently shifted forward to attention to their controls, when the Doctor's harassed voice filtered through the intercom once more.

"Yea fella! Well what the hell would your precious little pointed eared freakin' family say if they heard about you and your Indian givin ways!"

"Ach! Tis disrespectin' of me kin, ye forked tongue rapscallion warlock in deceitful and gold grubbin' human guise!" Came the sharp retort from a voice two decibels short of sending all the bridges equipment off the board.

"I ain't disrespecting anyone you jack-a-nape in garden gnome trappings! Which I might add, look like they're straight off the rack!" Shouted the Doctor, the sound of his chair squeaking loudly as he jumped to his feet. "A second rate off the rack, imaginary wee folk, used clothing shop!"

"Besmirchin' not only me kin , but also me five tailorin'!" Now with face flaming red and small fists trembling at his side, Fred fixed his ragin eye on the Dcotor. "Ye be ruing the day me fine laddie, that ye ever crossed me path! Curse on ye blighted and treacherous soul ye black hearted soothsayer! And double so on all yer kin. If ye be so fortunate to have any willin' to be called the damnation of McCoy. May all yer women kinfolk be barren and may the same fruitless path befall their kit n kin!"

"Pretty big spoutin' from a talking infected fungi." Sniffed McCoy folding his arms, looking believable smugly confident and slowly rocked on his heels. "Especially one that takes created for supposed actions that mere just…flukes. You haven't really done anything to prove to me you can grant even the simplest wish."

Speaking through clenched teeth, McCoy glared toward the ceiling trying to ignore the festering knowledge of the humiliation that waited for him after all of this. What reputation that he held by a think slippery strand, could very easily snap sending him bouncing down the ravine of infinite mortification.

"For all I know you could be a stubby ambulance chasing, delusional solicitor believing you found a gullible mark. Everything that has happened in the last week probably was meant to be." Continued the Doctor rolling a noncommittal shoulder still trying to screw a bored look on his face. "They always have said every hound dog has his day."

"Ye be daft boy-o!" Steamed the leprechaun no shaking from head to toe. "Tis the touch of the drink or the devil that be havin' ye blantin' such treacherous clatter!"

Gazing indifferently down at the little man, McCoy sniffed loudly. "Maybe. Then again, considering I haven't seen you do so much as pull the ace of spades outta Spock's ear. Or make a pair of your fancy fairy shoes outta the seat cover of the Captain's chair, with my own eyes, I ain't see where I have anything to be frettin' about. What's there to fret about when we're talking about a fraud."

What happened next was quickly censored on the bridge as Kirk clamped a hand over the intercom speaker. Shooting a conspiratorial glance around the bridge, he quickly lowered his ear to steadily growing melee, a gleeful smile spreading on his face.

Chair swiveling in the direction of the Captain, Spock arched an eyebrow as he observed Kirk in his peculiar pleasure. Lips pursing ever so slightly, the Vulcan lowered the one eyebrow while it's twin began to ascend as the dark gaze moved around the bridge before fixing his stare on Kirk again.

The rest of the crew also had their highly disturbed eyes fixed on the Captain but ears strained to catch any recognizable words from the half stifled brawl.

For years everyone who had spent any length of time aboard the 'Enterprise' had toyed with fantasies of either torturing or a simple southern fried ass kicking of the good Doctor, for his obvious delight during the mandatory physical season. Now that someone had finally taken that step, albeit one who had apparently had a cracked dilithium crystal they weren't going to be given a chance to listen to the Doctor's final death rattle. Fate had a way of being cruel.

Sensing the disgruntled shift among those softly growling crewmembers, Spock lowered an eyebrow and arched the other once more as he stood up. Firmly pressing his lips in both annoyance and aplomb he stepped down, pausing next to the command chair when his well tuned ears caught a handful of words that oddly made the Vulcan reconsider his well devised plan. Eyebrow wriggled subtlety, he rolled a shoulder in a very human expression of 'What the hell,' and settled on observing the conclusion of this less than Shakespearean farce with his usual stoicism.

There were actual moment he found it necessary to allow his human side to partake in riotous jocularity. Specifically when it pertained to a particular Star fleet Captain less than a foot from where he stood.

* * *

Double vision clearing, McCoy scowled at the ceiling as he labored to regain his breath. Lung capacity was still limited after having a hundred and forty five pound, pointy eared toadstool jumping up and down on ones rib cage.

"Spock to Doctor McCoy."

Grunting something better left on the office floor, the Doctor grasped the edge of his desk and painfully began to pull himself up into a sitting position.

"Spock to Doctor McCoy."

Left hand running roughly through his hair, McCoy glared sourly in the general vicinity of the voice while his other hand scrambled along the desktop.

Fingers groping over his cluttered desk, he finally snagged the intercom switch and slowly slipped back down on to the strangely peaceful yet cold floor.

"Yes, what Spock?"

"You recall during your momentary grapple with,..'Fred', your reference toward you 'request' Doctor."

"Yea vaguely." Snorted McCoy, one blue eye squinting open once again to fix a seething glower back on the ceiling. "Something in order of cocky, suet encased, debauched fly flicker in bargain basement wolves clothing'? yea, that I hazily recall. Why, I dare and foolishly ask."

There was one of Spock's perturbing hesitation's, that gave McCoy a moment to wonder if the pointy eared iron maiden was happily being as anguishing as possible when the Vulcan's voice came through once more.

"As of 16.3 seconds ago, the Captain is longer on the bridge."

Like that was a bi damn bug-a-boo, McCoy snidely thought to himself as the one eyelid drooped shut again. It just meant the ship's hazard rate dropped 68 and reports of sexual harassment shot up 73.

"Not onboard the ship."

The eye barely cracked open again.

Now that could be a problem. Eventually.

**TBC**


	17. Chapter Seventeen

**CHAPTER SEVENTEEN**

"You could be a little more grateful Jim." Grunted McCoy as he tilted his chair back and planted both feet on the corner of the desk. "We did come back and get you."

"Two days later!" Snapped Kirk nearly spilling his second glass of bourbon in his vehemence. "Bad enough I had to hang in that damn smelly bag all that time but I had to listen to that screaming, filthy mouthed, flim-flaming,…."

"Fly flicker?"

"What!" Came the vexed hiss from the Captain, as he fixed look of mixed annoyance and befuddlement on to his face.

Lower jaw shifting 1.3 centimeters, Spock stared at Kirk for 2.2 seconds, flared his nostrils once then fixed his own cold stare on the opposite wall.

"Don't bellyache too damn loud Jim." McCoy snorted as he absently toyed with the limp sprig of mint in his drink. "All that caterwauling made it hellva a lot easier to find you two. Besides, I did finally figure out that I could wish the entire ship to the right sector to rescue your sorry behind."

There was a peculiar hushed noise emitted somewhere in the general vicinity of Spock, as he folded his arm and kept his stare pinned on the wall.

"Er,…of course, Spock did make the original suggestion." Appended McCoy quickly as he shot a prickly glare at the Vulcan, unsure exactly of what part of the Vulcan had made the noise. "It was more of a group consultation type of thing."

"Yes. Nearly forty hours later!" Snarled Kirk in-between gulps of his drink, not sure which of his two officers he should be the most peeved at. The one who came up with the plan or the one who executed the idiotic plot.

"Why do you insist on reiterating that point Captain?" Spock innocently inquired as he wiggled around in his seat and appeared not to notice any sound that he may have executed.

Tongue working furious to lap up any stray droplets of bourbon that lingered around his lips, Kirk gave the Vulcan an incredulous glare.

"Possibly due to the fact I have this abhorrence to dying either by the elements or the lack of food, that I've had since childhood."

Rolling his eyes, McCoy sighed from exasperated boredom. "I wouldn't have worried too much about it Jim. You could survive for a good many days on that layer of blubber you keep tucked in that girdle of yours. So cool your flaps, drink you drink and at least for our sake, pretend to be damn appreciative."

Opening then shutting his mouth, Kirk stared at the physician suspiciously before gulping the rest of his drink and slouched further in his chair.

"Yea well,….." Swirling the remnants of the amber liquor in the bottom of his glass, Kirk heaved a large unhappy sigh. "…when Scotty shot me down thanks for breaking my fall Spock. McCoy did a decent job of fixing that ear. Practically looks like the other one."

Eyebrow arching dangerously in an expression of Vulcan venom, Spock stared at the man sitting next to him for a full chilly silent ten seconds before speaking.

"Captain, may I point out that the tips of a Vulcan ear's do not normally bend at a forty five degree angle."

"Oh. Yea, Spock." Coughed Kirk while darting his nervous eyes toward the chronometer on McCoy's desk. "I knew that. Really. I was merely trying to be….supportive. Is that the real time? I need to be getting back to the bridge before Chekov finds where I've been hiding my liquor again and tires to find a drive thru at the next starbase we pass. Thanks for the drink Bones."

Downing the remaining bourbon, Kirk licked his lips loudly then set the empty glass on the Doctor's desk before sprinting from his chair and out of the office.

Eyes locking with McCoy's bothersome blue gaze, Spock heaved a small tiresome sigh.

"Well Spock," Began the Doctor, his fingers again playing with the nearly shredded mint sprig. "Already regettin' not to go along with my idea of taking Fred and leaving Jim?"

Studying McCoy's face while pursing his lips reflectively, the Vulcan suddenly stood up well aware of the strange air flow over the tilted tip of his ear.

"Logic Doctor, is pointing more toward the idea of perhaps having left both."

With that being said, Spock also took his leave of McCoy, planning on returning to his cabin to contact his mother in regards to any suggestion for his most recent affliction at the hands of his Captain.

Shaking his head, McCoy already missed his few weeks of good fortune even if it was a fluke. Then again he was thrilled down to his yellow toenails the little bugger was not longer around to complicate his simple bucolic life style.

That thought having barely echoed within his mind, McCoy suddenly froze. His face losing it's color when his somewhat disillusioned gaze fell on his glass with it's green décor.

The one time sprig of mint that hugged the lip of the glass was no longer there. In it's place, a perfect brilliant emerald hued shamrock.

**FIN**…………………………..……Or is it? Could there be the slightest chance that Fred or some of his kin may reappear later on to complicate the good Doctor's life again? Possibly, but one never knows.


End file.
